


Lessons in Eros

by Aargle_Baargle, paradoxicallysimplistic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Ice Skating, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aargle_Baargle/pseuds/Aargle_Baargle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradoxicallysimplistic/pseuds/paradoxicallysimplistic
Summary: Although he's finally gotten both the technical and performance elements of his short skate down, Yuuri still feels like something is missing. Something about what Eros actually means. And he'll need it if he wants to win the Grand Prix. In order to do so, he turns to Victor for help.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the multi-chapter Victor/Yuuri fic, I mentioned before! It'll be around ~10 chapters or so. Updates will be slow going for the first while as I finished my Levi/Eren NaNoWriMo ([here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8622958) for those that are interested), but will pick up sometime in December hopefully. I'm planning to get this done by the end of the year.
> 
> Comments, suggestions, and kudos are always welcome! Enjoy!

“Fantastic, Yuuri! That was your best skate yet!” Victor’s arms came around him, congratulating him for a successful practice. He had finally nailed almost every technical element without any flaws, but as he was skating off the ice, Yuuri still felt there was something missing about his performance in the short. The free program on the other hand was still taxing even with his stamina, but it was his own life, so telling it on the ice came naturally.

He had mastered everything except the quadruple Salchow in practice a week ago, and there were no other technical flaws – aside from the tendency for him to mess up when anxious – but it wasn’t the same as when Victor performed it. The twenty-three year old had been performing it for the last few months, since his competition with Yuri Plisetsky. He had improved and taken the piece Victor choreographed to a new level, but he knew it wasn’t yet perfect.

Although he thought he had understood the concept of Eros, skating a story of a femme fatale who seduced men, there was something fundamental he was missing. Naturally it was difficult for him to understand the basic raw emotion behind it. He had never experienced the passionate, fiery sensation that ripped away all sense of one’s individuality and rational thought. It might have also been his upbringing, given how Japanese culture taught one the importance of familial love and loyalty, but distanced itself from passionate displays of emotion.

Victor had told him to find the meaning of Eros applicable to him, and he had, but skating as if he were a katsudon was still different from the concept of Eros. Eros was supposed to be something that consumed one’s being and oftentimes had sexual meanings. It certainly wasn’t a bowl of katsudon. Although they were both meant to entice, there were still subtle differences. When Yuuri had first learned of that, he had been too embarrassed to perform the piece, but Victor had coaxed him out of it.

He supposed what he felt towards skating now could be considered Eros, but it was again towards to an inanimate being. That was more what his free piece was designed to show; his journey from depression and failure to finding his love for skating once more. It showed off his love for the sport, for flying through the rink and the air in front of an audience.

But his short wasn’t as clear cut as that. What he needed was those directed towards a person.

As he had declared when being named part of the Japanese contingent to the Grand Prix assignment, Victor was the only one he had thought of holding bodily before. There was a time as a child when he had had a crush on Yuko, she was beautiful and the name of Madonna of Ice Castle Hasetsu was well-deserved, but she was two years his senior and now married. Outside of that, the only people he was physically close were his family and what few friends he had, but it was all friendly, familial love, still intense, but not at the same level as Eros.

It was clear that his idol and champion of the figure skating world was able to grasp the fundamentals of Eros, but Yuuri had never experienced it. The judges might not be able to pick up on it given his high Presentation Score, but he knew that it was there. Although it was important to come up with a personal interpretation of Eros, if he had never experienced it with another person, how could even skate it as he knew it could skated? And if he wanted to win the Grand Prix, he would do whatever it was needed to win.

“Umm, Victor...”

“Hmm? What is it, kobuta-chan?” Those blue eyes looked at him curiously, making him want to melt under Victor’s scrutiny. Ever since meeting his new coach, Yuuri had been thrown into an emotional blender. The lines of decent behavior were completely different for Victor. More than once he had seen his idol naked or been trapped in Victor’s embrace, and it always made his heart thump that much quicker.

“Can-can you...” Swallowing his nervousness, he clenched his fists and unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut. Yuuri had no clue what to do if Victor refused, but if he didn’t even make the attempt, he would never know. “Victor, can you teach me about Eros?!”


	2. Lesson 1: Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the delay. Holidays, work, and the like... Here's the first lesson. The last bit of each lesson which is dated and italicized will generally feature notes detailing Victor's thoughts on the proceedings, Yuuri's skate, Yuuri himself in the first person. Hope you guys enjoy reading it! Cheers!

Victor leaned back against the small sectional in the corner of his room, a cup of black tea with jam next to him on the bookshelf, and stared at his notes. Lessons in Eros. That was an interesting request, coming from Yuuri after having won the Onsen on Ice competition. Victor was a little uncertain how to proceed.

He had come to Japan because of Yuuri’s drunken, impassioned request that he coach the Japanese skater. Yuuri had been confident and vibrant that night at the banquet, and even if it had been liquid courage, Victor had been bewitched by it. Who would’ve thought that the uninhibited pole dancer grinding on his leg was the same mousy kid who’d refused a commemorative photo at the arena the day prior? It was a surprise to everyone and Victor was a sucker for the unexpected.

Yuuri had been the talk of the evening, but then he seemingly dropped off the face of the planet for months. Victor had heard nothing about him competing at either the Four Continents or the Worlds. He had looked forward to seeing the younger man once more and was disappointed when he couldn’t find that mysterious Japanese skater anywhere. But then the video of Yuuri skating _his_ free program had gone viral and seeing it had settled the matter in Victor’s mind. Eager to reconnect with his new student, he set off for Japan at the beginning of April. But when Victor had arrived in Hasetsu, the Yuuri he met was completely different from the one he remembered.

Gone was the shining, vivacious skater who had made everyone else pale in comparison. The man who greeted Victor in the hot springs had gotten fat in the intervening months, looked worn down, and was nothing like the Yuuri from that night. He seemed flummoxed by Victor’s arrival and intent to coach him, even though _he_ was the one who asked Victor to come in the first place. And he had acted all skittish and timid around Victor, especially once Yuri had shown up claiming that Victor was to be _his_ choreographer instead. Victor had been at a loss as to what to do, and it had been a passing comment from Yuuri’s friend that gave him the spark of an idea. If Yuuri hated losing so much, perhaps having to compete for Victor’s attention would snap him out of the funk he was in. Victor _knew_ that Yuuri could skate the part of Eros – he had seen it happen.

And Yuuri had come through with flying colors, even if he _had_ been motivated by _katsudon_ rather than Victor’s coaching. The fact that the younger male considered food, specifically, katsudon, Eros was almost unfathomable. It was that same fattening rice bowl which had bent Yuuri completely out of shape. Victor was surprised that such naïve misguided thinking still existed. As tasty as the rice bowl was, the notion of it being Eros, was completely different than the idea he had in mind.

Eros was more than just an emotion or a word to describe love, it was a state of being that consumed one’s mind and left one punch drunk and desiring more. A love where one’s mind, body, and soul were in the throes of passion. It would be like ambrosia, the sweet nectar of the gods, that a mere drop would cause one to sacrifice anything for even the merest scent of a second one. On the ice, the essence of such a performance would naturally bewitch and enthrall the audience.

Eros wasn’t something as simple as learning how to skate backwards or how to jump, but something that flowed through one’s entire being. He had originally described it to Yuuri as sexual love – pleasure followed by more pleasure – to a point that one could just drown in it. The Yuuri from the banquet might’ve understood what he was getting at; he wasn’t as certain about this Yuuri.

Which brought him to his current dilemma. After watching and rewatching, Yuuri’s previous performances, Victor knew the Japanese skater already had the necessary grace and beauty for his Eros routine. What Yuuri lacked was the passion and confidence to pull it off. And the younger male must have recognized that fact as well, or Victor suspected he never would have asked for lessons in Eros otherwise. Victor had no problem performing on ice – creating a persona came naturally – but creating a persona and teaching someone else how to do it were two different things. Still, his student had been bold enough to come to him with a request and Victor figured that was a decent enough place for them to start.

 

* * *

 

The moment the words had escaped his mouth yesterday, Yuuri had regretted the decision. It had haunted him all the way to his bed and even prevented him from sleeping properly last night. What the hell had he been thinking when he asked such a thing? There was no way Victor – THE Victor Nikiforov – was going to be able to teach him how to be Eros, and even if the Russian tried, he was so far above Yuuri’s league that such a comparison would be laughable.

"Uhh... V-Victor...” Yuuri could feel the heat rising in his cheeks again today as he realized more and more how bad a mistake he had made by asking the older man to teach him about Eros. From the get-go, Victor had told him to find his own interpretation, and this was him failing to do so. He didn’t want to fail now, especially in front of his long-time skating idol. “Just forget what I said yesterday…you know, about teaching me Eros. I know you said I should think about what it means to me, so it doesn’t seem fair for me to ask you."  

“No, no!” He blanched at the vigorous refusal. Victor's blue eyes intent on him, making Yuuri even more cognizant of what he had asked. “It’s a really good idea and I’ve been giving some thought as to how we could structure lessons. You were trained in ballet right?”

The dark-haired man nodded, unsure what Victor was hinting at. Victor continued his explanation.

“Putting aside your technical elements, it is easy to see you have all the PCS skills you need. They show in the grace of your posture and movements. But sometimes they can be slightly mechanical.”

“Okay…”

“What you need is that little bit of… how do you say it… flourish!”

“But I can’t…” Yuuri struggled to rein in his panic. On one hand he was relieved that Victor hadn’t dismissed him as crazy and had accepted to teach him, but on the other hand, he was wondering _how_ and _what_ would happen to him now. The Russian skater had a tendency to go overboard with certain things, such as when he banned Yuuri from eating his favorite katsudon. Admittedly katsudon was very fattening, but to be banned from it completely was hell. “That’s why I need you to teach me!”

“Yuuri…” Shrewd blue eyes turned to him. Yuuri could detect a hint of discord in the way Victor looked him over and shook his head. “Eros can’t be taught.”

“But then…” Yuuri started, feeling depressed. If it couldn’t be taught, then he would never be able to bring out its full potential or win the Grand Prix. There was no point in him even trying something that he would fail at once more. He might as well stop now.

“It must be _lived_.” Victor continued without missing a beat. “If you can’t feel it right now, pretend that you can.”

“How…?’ Yuuri had no clue how to pretend to be Eros. Before the hot springs competition, Victor had used examples of katsudon to evoke the concept, having him imagine entangling more of the egg and such. And that had worked to a point. Yuuri had also used imagery from the story he envisioned in the music, of the beautiful woman and the playboy. But even that wouldn’t be enough to carry him all the way through the Grand Prix final. Hell, even something as mundane as just losing weight so that Victor would let him skate was difficult enough. What else was he supposed to do to become Eros enough to win the Grand Prix? He was so caught up in his spiraling thoughts that he almost missed Victor’s next words.

“Eros is not something you can quantify with a simple checklist, Yuuri. You must _be_ Eros, kobuta-chan. It begins inside you,” Victor placed his hands flat against his ribcage and then slowly swept them outward, “and then flows from the very core of your being out to others. They will be able to sense Eros within you. So that is how we will conduct our lessons. By looking at the different ways that Eros can be sensed.”

“But that would just teach me how to recognize it in someone else. It wouldn’t teach me how I can actually _be_ Eros, would it?” Yuuri was thoroughly confused at this point but Victor continued.

“When you understand the ways it is sensed and experienced, you’ll be able to recognize it more easily, both in others and in yourself by their reactions.” Victor huffed a laugh at the skeptical look on Yuuri’s face. “Don’t think too much about it for now. We’ll start with the easiest of the senses in our lesson today and work toward the more difficult concepts later.”

“Okay… if you say so.” Even with the explanation, he wasn’t sure how faking it would achieve anything. Victor had just told him that one had to _be_ Eros to skate Eros, but wouldn’t people be able to pick it up if all he was doing was pretending to be Eros? Even now, Yuuri really didn’t know what Eros meant. It was such a vague abstract concept, which definitely did not help his understanding.

The silvery blonde man must have noticed the skepticism in his voice as he laughed once more.

“How about an example?”

“I guess.” Yuuri shrugged. Victor skated away from Yuuri until he was about a third of the way across the rink, then stopped and looked back.

“Okay, let’s say I’m just standing here silently when you arrive. What’s the first way you sense me here on the ice?” Yuuri almost rolled his eyes.

“I see you,” he replied.

“Precisely! Sight is our first sense,” Victor answered. Then he clutched his leg and winced. Yuuri rushed across the distance to where his coach was bent over.

“Victor, what’s wrong?!”

The Russian righted himself with a smile, those blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “Absolutely nothing! But you could sense just by sight that something was different about me, couldn’t you? And it drew a reaction from you.” He sounded almost smug.

“Yes, and please don’t do that again.” Yuuri would’ve shaken the man if he weren’t so intimidated by him.

“And what about now?” Victor slumped his shoulders, dropped his smile, and gave what was obviously a fake yawn.

“Now you just look really tired.”

“Right again. Posture is important because it’s one of the first things people see. If you’re playing the part of a woman on the ice, then you must be graceful when she is graceful, passionate when she is passionate. Use your posture to,” Victor leaned closer, almost conspiratorially, “captivate the audience. Captivate _me_.”

There was a breathless quality to Victor’s last words and they came as the barest whisper against Yuuri’s ear. Gulping nervously, he could feel Victor’s breath feather light against the hairs of his neck as the older man spoke. The Russian skater had given him similar instruction before, but he really had no clue how to captivate his idol.

“Bu-but how…?” Yuuri found he could breathe again as the other man pulled away. “I mean, that’s graceful and passionate, but how is it Eros?”

“Think, Yuuri.” The man proceeded to goose step across the ice, the tail of his blade digging into the surface of the rink in choppy paces. Yuuri winced at the gouges in the ice. “Would a ballerina do this?”

“No.” He knew exactly what ballets on ice looked like, having been taught figure skating from a ballet teacher. Although it wasn’t quite the same as figure skating, ballet dancers seemed almost light as they fluttered around the stage, jumping and fluttering their feet with seemingly effortless grace.

“That’s right! For example, you know the part of your routine where you clap your hands and then bring them overhead as you swing into your inside eagle…?” Yuuri nodded and Victor went on. “If you hold your arms like this…” he demonstrated by holding his arms stiffly out to the sides, bending them upwards ninety degrees at the elbow, and then pushing them straight up over his head. “It’s too stiff; you look like a robot. But if you sweep them gracefully, like this...” He proceeded to place them down at his sides and then sweep a sensual arc outward and up with a hand flourish until his wrists crossed each other over his head. After a moment, he dropped his arms back down to his sides. “You see the difference?”

Yuuri nodded mutely, the image of Victor with delicate wrists crossed above him still fresh in his mind. Speech eluded him at the moment.

“In addition to how you hold your body, Eros is also about fluidity of movement. You don’t want to be limp like wet spaghetti, but you are also not rigid like a tin soldier. Even in the midst of Eros, there is power at the core of it.” Victor straightened, donning his ‘coach’ face once more. “Okay, then. Putting together posture and fluidity of movement, both of which convey Eros and can be sensed by sight, I’ll show you my skate once more. Watch carefully now,” the older man admonished.

Yuuri skated off the ice and hurriedly plugged in the music for the routine, turning back to watch the skating star ready himself.

There was a smooth glide of skates as Victor took center ice. Within seconds of the first few notes, Yuuri was already enraptured. Even if he wanted to, it would have been impossible to pull his eyes away from the captivating performance. He had no doubt that the man on the ice was considered the king of men’s figure skating, both in technical and performance elements.

Watching his idol, Yuuri could barely remember the analytical points of the lesson itself. All he could see was Victor. Victor sweeping his arms gracefully up over his head. Victor sensually arching his back as he stepped into the inside eagle. Victor gliding across the ice as if he was both the chaser and the one being chased. Victor jumping powerfully into the air as he wrapped strong arms around his torso to pull himself into rotation.

The fact that it was just the two of them at the rink only heightened the intimacy of the music and atmosphere. Yuuri could literally _feel_ the game of chase across the ice as Victor spun and leapt and shifted his hips to transition skate edges in the step sequences. It was as if _Yuuri_ was the one doing the chasing, even though his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He could feel the obsession the playboy in the story had for the beautiful woman; like bees attracted to a lethal, but beautiful belladonna.

The performance was raw, elemental, and above all else, embodied passion and Eros.

Clapping as his skating idol left the rink, Yuuri could only hope his performance would contain even a trace of the emotion Victor’s had.

 

* * *

 

**_Friday evening, May 15 th _ **

_Yuuri and I had our first Eros lesson today. We discussed the sense of sight and how it’s probably the easiest of the senses to experience eros with._

_Yuuri has a tendency to overthink his moves, and he stiffens up when he does. But when he just lets the music flow through him, and allows his body to move on its own…he has a grace and sensuality that I envy. He’s even more mesmerizing than he was at the banquet… He is truly beautiful to watch and doesn’t even realize it. I can’t understand why he thinks he needs lessons in Eros, but whatever. I told him during the hot springs competition that it was my job to make him feel confident in himself and I’m determined to make that happen._

_He still won’t say anything about the night of the banquet! He acts like it never happened. Maybe he’s just embarrassed that he was drunk? I don’t want to bring it up and make it worse for him, but I thought he wanted me here. Does he not want me here? He wants me to teach him Eros, but runs away whenever I suggest we get to know each other better. How can I be his teacher if he won’t let me get closer to him? I don’t think Yakov ever had to deal with this situation. I'm so confused..._ ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ


	3. Lesson 2: Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things cannot be unheard...

They were sitting on the bench under the sakura tree at the base of Hasetsu Castle. Well, actually Yuuri was doing single-leg jump squats on the bench; Victor was taking selfies. He’d pose with the castle behind him, then swing his legs over the bench and take more with the bay as his backdrop. Makkachin was sniffing at something under the arbor a few feet away, but soon ambled back to the bench and flopped down at Victor’s feet, panting and tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Yuuri could sympathize. Even though it was only mid-morning, the temperature was already spiking. It was one of those rare late-June days without rainfall but the humidity more than made up for it. His shirt was already soaked and sticking to him uncomfortably. He finished the jumps and then collapsed onto the bench for a breather before the next exercise, reaching for his water bottle.

“Well done, Yuuri! You’ve accomplished much as far as slimming down and toning up, and it’s been showing in your posture and movements on the ice. Let’s work on some grapevines now.”

Yuuri heaved a sigh and got to his feet. Victor could be a hard taskmaster when he chose, and Yuuri just wanted to finish these exercises and get into the rink where it was cooler. As he began the crossover and crossunder steps designed to increase his footwork agility, Victor spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking that it’s time for our next lesson on Eros. Last time we talked about sight and how it’s the easiest of the senses that works at a distance. Our next lesson is about sound, because even if you are at a distance or in a place where I can’t see you, if you make a loud enough sound, I can still hear you. Sounds are all around us and some convey Eros while others, not so much.”

Yuuri absorbed Victor’s exposition with only half an ear while he concentrated on his footwork. Most of it just breezed past him. His coach continued.

“Yuuri, what do you think of when you hear birds singing?”

His footsteps slowed a bit as he pondered Victor’s question. Victor’s words and tone of voice reminded Yuuri of when he first introduced _Agape_ and _Eros_ to him and Yurio. He realized that even back then, Victor was already teaching him in a sense, even if he had only grasped it now. “What do you think when you hear this sound? What does it _say_ to you?”

“I guess...birds singing make me think of Spring. Growth. Dew on the grass... peaceful mornings.”

“And what about cicadas humming?” Victor continued.

“Summer,” came Yuuri’s automatic reply. “Hot weather...lazy days. The off season.”

“Do you think of Eros when you hear any of these sounds?”

Yuuri gave him a sideways glance before answering. “No, not really. Not at all.” Was Victor trying to say that bugs were erotic? That was a bit of a stretch and he wondered what Victor’s point was, but the man had fallen silent temporarily. Yuuri redoubled his efforts to increase his speed and finish the grapevines, and he was almost done when Victor spoke again.

“What about sexual sounds?”

Yuuri tripped over his left foot.

He just barely managed to catch himself from faceplanting on the ground. What. The. Hell. Victor had thrown him a curve ball with that question and Yuuri wasn’t sure he even wanted to answer it. Deciding to concentrate on his mental agility (because clearly his footwork was pretty much shot to hell now) and ignore the question, he made his way back to the bench. Maybe he should just sit down for the rest of this lesson before anything else went wrong. He reached for his water bottle and leaned forward slightly, panting. He was trying to regain his breath when a voice spoke right next to him.

"That's quite an erotic sound you’re making, kobuta-chan. I see you’re taking this lesson seriously." Victor's breath washed across his neck and his voice was low in Yuuri’s ear.

“GAAHH! Victor!” Yuuri jumped backwards, his cheeks flushing furiously as he turned to face his coach. He certainly had not expected to hear Victor's voice that close and it made his spine tingle. He’d splashed water on himself from the open bottle when he jumped, but Yuuri barely noticed. “W-What are you doing?”

“I’m simply demonstrating the lesson, Yuuri. What did you think I was doing?” Victor winked teasingly at him and he couldn’t help but look elsewhere. The skater couldn’t face being teased by his idol at the moment. He was frantically trying to regain his equilibrium and calm himself down after the sudden interruption.

When he didn’t answer, his coach sobered. “Look, I told you before that I was drawn to you because of the way you move to the music. Like the song’s already inside you and you’re using your body to release it. When I saw your video of my program, I could _hear_ the music in my head just from watching you skate silently. Now that you’ve been improving your posture and movements in your program, the sound of Eros is even more present in your skating. I can hear it. And so will the audience.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure what to say at this point. He had almost forgotten that he had asked the Russian skater to teach him about Eros. It had been so long since their first lesson that Yuuri had presumed that Victor forgot all about it, like he forgot so many other things. It seemed he was sorely mistaken.

  


* * *

  


Headed back to his room after getting a drink of water in the middle of the night, Yuuri padded on silent bare feet down the hall when a noise from behind Victor’s closed door stopped him in his tracks.

He could hear heavy breathing and what sounded like a faint moan. Well, _this_ was awkward. Funny, but Yuuri had never really thought of Victor as the kind to watch porn. Chris maybe, but Victor had never really given off that vibe in spite of his status as what Minako-sensei liked to call a “hottie.” Standing there, the dark-haired male half-wondered if this was where Victor got the idea for their Eros lesson about sound earlier that morning. But then the sound was repeated and Yuuri’s eyes flew wide. That was _Victor’s_ voice. He was — Oh. _Oh._

“—ri! Haaahh....ngh......yes, right there!”

Holy shit! Talk about the sounds of Eros. It couldn’t get more erotic than this and Yuuri could feel his face burning. He knew he should leave immediately, but couldn’t bring his feet to move. A familiar heat started to tingle low in his belly and began spreading to places he wished it wouldn’t.

He definitely did not want to think about Victor naked in bed jerking himself off. Did he? This was _Victor;_ Yuuri had practically worshipped the man half his life, followed the saga of his meteoric rise in the skating world and collected every scrap of personal information he could get his hands on, including the Russian’s status as one of the hottest, most eligible bachelors in the world.

In the deepest corner of his mind, Yuuri would admit to himself, though he’d vehemently deny doing so, that he’d been curious about his idol’s love life (or apparent lack of one). Victor was splashed across industry publications and tabloids alike, but there weren’t any photos of him with a special someone. They were always of him practicing with his team or at home with Makkachin, or on a staged photo shoot. Never anything deeply personal.

But this. _This_ was certainly more candid and personal than Yuuri’d ever expected to encounter. Yes, they regularly bathed or soaked sore muscles in the hot springs and it seemed that Victor sometimes had no sense of modesty or personal space. But there was a huge difference between seeing the man nude when they were both in the hot springs and imagining him naked in his bed, tendrils of platinum blond hair plastered to sweaty skin, limbs splayed across the sheets, long deft fingers reaching for...

Another low moan came from inside the room and Yuuri’s cock twitched in response. He could feel heat flushing over his chest and throat as Victor’s low voice rose in pitch, though not volume, to become a near whine. Yuuri desperately fought the urge to palm himself through his pajama bottoms. As the sounds of pleasure choked off in shuddering gasps, he used Victor’s preoccupation as the best opportunity to slink away to his room; he didn’t think he’d get much sleep and practice tomorrow would be a bitch.

  


* * *

  


Victor shuffled, yawning, into the kitchen where Yuuri was busy making breakfast.

“What are you making this early in the morning? It smells really good.”

“Oh, I, uh...couldn’t sleep much last night. I’m making _tamagoyaki_.” Yuuri didn’t bother looking up from his frying pan and hoped that the warmth in his cheeks wasn’t visible. Hearing Victor’s morning voice only reminded him of the sounds he had heard last night. He had been up all night tossing and turning trying to forget what he’d heard, but it had been impossible.

“Octopus balls? For breakfast?” Victor wrinkled his nose in distaste as he headed for the coffee pot.

“You’re thinking of _takoyaki_ ,” Yuuri corrected him somewhat absently, trying to focus on not burning the thin layer of egg he was rolling up.

“So then...egg balls?” Victor poured himself a cup and took a seat on one of the tall stools at the counter.

“No, this is more like a rolled-up layered omelet.” Yuuri finished plating and slicing the first tamagoyaki and slid it, along with a set of chopsticks, across the counter to his coach. Turning back to the burner, he waited for the pan to heat before starting a second one for himself. “Here. Give it a try.”

Yuuri knew he was a little out of practice with his cooking skills but he was still pretty capable when it came to simple things like tamagoyaki for breakfast. It helped when he was training abroad and missed Japanese home cooking and it was also easier to keep in shape when he cooked. The egg was fluffy but firm, the cheese melted to gooey perfection, and the nori added just the right amount of umami to give depth to the overall flavor. He kept half an ear out for Victor’s reaction as the man picked up his utensils and lifted a slice to his mouth. After blowing on it with pursed lips, he gently took a bite and Yuuri turned to pour more egg into the pan.

“Mmmmm...”

The long sensual moan in Victor’s raspy still-half-asleep baritone hit Yuuri like a punch to his gut and he lost his grip on the pan. It clattered to the stove, startling Victor, and the just-poured egg slopped out onto the burner. Yuuri was almost positive his face was on fire as he tried to quickly clean up the mess and pour some more egg into the pan. Damn that man! After their lesson yesterday, why’d he have to moan like that? Did Victor have any idea what he was doing to Yuuri’s equilibrium? Especially after last ni—

Yuuri went pale. _Oh god_. What if Victor had known he was in the hall last night? What if Victor knew that Yuuri had heard him masturbating...that he had enjoyed listening...that he had wondered what it would be like to be the _cause_ of those sounds falling from that beautiful pouty mouth? Yuuri almost giggled a little hysterically; this definitely wasn’t how he had imagined making those sounds happen. As it was, he stood there, frozen in place with his ears burning, staring at Victor.

The smell of overcooked eggs permeated the air and Yuuri gasped in dismay at the sight of his tamagoyaki turning overbrowned and rubbery. For his own part, Victor just looked mildly concerned as he stopped eating and looked up at him with those beguiling eyes. “Yuuri? Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

“You...! You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” Yuuri could only splutter, turning off the heat and transferring the burnt egg into the sink.

“Did what?” Victor seemed genuinely perplexed.

“That noise! Is this another part of your Eros lesson? Wasn’t yesterday’s discussion enough?” he accused.

Yuuri could see the exact moment that Victor caught his meaning. The blonde wore a completely innocent expression but his blue eyes were full of mischief.

“It was completely unplanned. I simply couldn’t help myself; it was just so delicious, kobuta-chan.” His voice dropped an octave and Yuuri watched, helpless, as Victor’s tongue came out to lick his bottom lip. “But I am extremely happy that you appreciate the way I... express my gratitude,” he purred, watching Yuuri from beneath long lashes.

Yuuri flushed even hotter under the scrutiny, if such a thing were possible. He was pretty sure steam was whistling from his ears by this point and he needed to make an escape. How was it that with just a look, a tone of voice, and some words that Victor could so _completely_ embody the seductive roving playboy in Yuuri’s Eros routine? And why did he suddenly find himself wondering what it would be like to be caught?

Mumbling out a hasty excuse about wanting to get to the rink early, he fled from the kitchen, leaving Victor to finish his breakfast.

  


* * *

  


**_Thursday afternoon, June 25 th_**

_Yuuri and I had our second Eros lesson, dealing with sound this time. He’s really making improvement, though he still flubs his quad Salchow when he’s thinking too hard. The look on his face when I asked him about sexual sounds was priceless, LOL!_

_I...maybe confessed to him that I could truly hear the music in my mind when I saw his video of my program, and that when he skates Eros, I can hear that too. God, I hope he doesn’t think I’m some sort of stalker._

_Watching him has become...intense. His skating’s intense. HE’S intense. And yet, he acts so...innocent, almost. Still no word about the Grand Prix banquet. Does he realize what he’s doing to me? It’s pure agony...I created the Eros program thinking of him and now I have to watch as he unleashes it. Ugh. Still, it’s a delicious thrill as my little kobuta-chan starts to become a prince._ (ꈍᴗꈍ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, here's the inspiration for Yuuri's tamagoyaki breakfast:  
> [Tamagoyaki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEN3_W5G1NE)


	4. Lesson 3: Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets his hands on Yuuri in some innocent and not-so innocent ways.

“Almost there, Yuuri.” There was a light clapping and he looked up to see a wide smile on Victor’s face.

“Victor, it’s been four weeks and I still haven’t managed to do it right…” Breathing heavily, Yuuri got back up from the ice and brushed himself off. He had been practicing his quad Salchow multiple times each day and like today, it was still ‘almost there.’ Although he could achieve the necessary number of rotations, he couldn’t seem to manage landing it correctly.

“Aww… Don’t be so depressed, kobuta-chan.” The silver-blonde’s face fell momentarily in sympathy for Yuuri’s frustration, before Victor suddenly brightened up. “Here! I’ll show you.” Yuuri watched as Victor glided onto the ice, skated in a circle to gain momentum, and then made a giant leap. He had seen it many times but even then, Yuuri couldn’t help but watch. He was mesmerized by the graceful spin as Victor took off, spiraling in the air, before landing back down with a flourish. It came as no surprise that the skating superstar had performed yet another perfect quad.

“See? Not so difficult.” There was a bright-eyed smile as Victor landed, bowing slightly, before he skated over to him “Now, one more time!”

“I know, I know…” Yuuri sighed, moving his legs on the ice. Skating backwards, he leapt into the air, tucked his arms, and spun. Cold wind blew through his hair as he spun and spun, before falling. Unfortunately, he couldn’t manage to land on the correct edge of the blade and stumbled onto the ice.

“Not again…” Yuuri groaned as he raised his head, feeling the cool air from the surface of the ice dance against his skin. Although Victor had lauded him on his performance multiple times, he was no closer to succeeding than he had been a month ago. He was starting to worry that performing the quad Salchow was like performing the impossible.

“Hmm…” There was a thoughtful look on Victor’s face as Yuuri got up for what felt like the twentieth time that morning. “Here, come over here, Yuuri.”

“What?”

“Wrap your arms around yourself like what you’d do for the quad.” Confused, Yuuri mirrored the movement his coach demonstrated and hugged himself. Victor then unwrapped his own arms and skated behind Yuuri, running his hand lightly around Yuuri’s body and nodded. “That’s it… good.”The shorter man shivered slightly at the gentle touch.

“Umm… Victor?” He twisted his neck, trying to see what Victor was doing skating circles behind him. “What are you doing?”

“Just wait, kobuta-chan.” Arms came up around Yuuri, hands gripping his wrists and repositioning them so he hugged himself a little tighter. He flushed at how close they were standing. Victor spoke from directly behind him, “Tighten them a bit more. Got it, Yuuri?”

“Okay…” Nodding, he tried regulating his breathing. In this position, he could felt Victor’s body pressed up against his intimately. Dressed in their skin-tight outfits, he could feel every curve and hard muscle of Victor’s broad chest against his back. For someone like Victor, who could skate something as innocent as _Agape_ and appear lithe and almost asexual while doing so, Yuuri was surprised to feel how toned his idol was. Wiggling a little, he tried to put a bit more space between them, but Victor merely hugged his arms even tighter. The man's gentle grip was surprisingly strong. “Umm… Victor can you me let go?”

“Okay, kobuta-chan.” There was a soft purr in Yuuri’s ear as Victor breathed against him, arms tightening around him once more before releasing him. Once his body was free, he gasped a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Victor continued his instructions as if nothing had happened. “Now try again, and hug yourself closer. You’re landing too soon after the last spin. Your arms are too rigid, so there’s not enough time to adjust and land properly.”

“Why did you have to ho-hold,” Yuuri shook his head. Saying that he was being held by Victor was a little too… _eros_ for him. He knew that Victor had a history of being very hands-on with things, such as the frequent hugging and close contact, but their former positioning had been even more intimate than that. It was almost as though Victor was spooning him, as if they were lovers. Except they weren’t. “Err… I mean, hug me like that?”

“Because you weren’t holding yourself tightly enough. You’re too rigid in the air, Yuuri. Try and relax.” There was a playful glint in Victor’s eyes as his coach smiled. “Besides, you were the one who wanted me to teach you about Eros. I was merely killing two birds with one stone.”

The mischievous light vanished as Victor straightened up once more.

“Now, try again. And this time, try to relax so you can wrap your arms tighter around yourself.”

“Umm… okay?” Yuuri took off on the ice, repeating Victor’s words through his mind. His face still burned from being held and he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight as he took off. Hugging himself tightly, he tried to relax in the air, but Yuuri couldn’t help the small shiver that ran through him as he remembered being held. Although he managed to land on his outer edge, he had been too distracted and stumbled as he tried to straighten himself up on the ice.

“What happened there, Yuuri? You almost managed it this time.” There was a concerned tone in Victor’s voice as the Russian skater helped him up.

“I… err…” Yuuri averted his eyes, not wanting Victor to know what he had been thinking of. Since the night he had heard those sounds coming from Victor’s room, Yuuri’s mind had been tormented by less-than-savory thoughts of his coach.

“What is it? Tell me, kobuta-chan.” Blue-eyes looked down at him in concern, as Victor cupped his face. Victor’s eyes scanned his face intensely, causing him to flush even more. Suddenly, it seemed like Victor had an epiphany as the worried expression melted into a small smirk. “Oh, I see…”

“S-see? See what?” Yuuri stuttered, trying to avoid any eye contact.

“You can’t be so… _rigid_ , Yuuri.” It felt like Victor was deliberately lowering his voice to a low whisper that sent goose bumps skittering across his arms. “When you wrap your arms, you must wrap them closely, but it shouldn’t be anything harsh. Just like Eros, a feather-light touch can be better in many ways when skating.”

“Okay…” The reminder of the lessons Yuuri had asked for unnerved him. The last lesson had come out of the blue, before it had suddenly petered off. Yuuri had been wondering when the next lesson would be. Was this it? Victor kept bringing up Eros but he hadn’t come right out and said this was the next lesson. Before Yuuri could start fretting too much over it, Victor spoke again.

“Okay, kobuta-chan, let’s try something different.” Yuuri stiffened as Victor skated behind him again and gripped his shoulders in firm hands, thumbs kneading into his flesh. Taking it as another as of Victor’s hands-on quirks, he breathed deeply and tried to ignore the sensation. “Close your eyes. Let the wind–”

“There’s no wind in here, Victor. We’re at a skating rink.” Yuuri replied flatly.

“Hush, kobuta-chan.” He rolled his eyes reluctantly and closed them once more. “Imagine you’re skating and can feel the wind flow through you, Yuuri. Feel it, work with it.” Victor’s deep cadence lulled him into a sense of security as he closed his eyes once more, trying to imagine the world Victor described. He began to relax under the pressure of Victor’s hands, feeling the warm breaths against his ear. “Try and remember when you learned about and danced ballet. How your movements were controlled but flowing and not harsh. It’s the same with your skating. The entire rink is part of you. Alive and fluid. You can’t force your will on it, but you need to move through it as though it’s an extension of your body. Imagine you’re a bird flying through the wind. The air flows through your wings, caressing you. Its touch is like a lover, Yuuri, caressing and moving _with you,_ not against you.”

Yuuri tried to imagine himself flying across the ice, but all he could focus on was Victor’s hands and voice surrounding him. There was a fluttering in his stomach as he relaxed and melted into the older man’s embrace.

“Just like when you’re hydroblading, if you push against the ice too hard, you’ll slow yourself down or lose balance. However,” fingers danced suggestively on the inside of Yuuri’s arm as Victor’s voice whispered against his ear, “if your touch is gentle…if you drag your hand lightly across the pristine surface, you’ll be able to _fly_.”

"Do you understand, Yuuri?”

“Y-yes.” Yuuri was disoriented when Victor’s hands left him and the Russian’s voice returned to normal. Even if it had been unintentional, he had lost himself in the descriptions and picture Victor had painted, and now that it was gone, Yuuri felt bereft.

“Good. Now try again, kobuta-chan.”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri tried to center himself and remember the floating sensation he had felt when caught up in Victor’s description of flying. When he reopened them, there was an encouraging nod from Victor who had returned to the sidelines. Skating a few laps around the ice, Yuuri tried to imagine the wind flowing through him as he gained speed. Gradually, he could see what Victor was trying to convey as he leapt into the air, feeling it rush through every single strand of hair, exhilarating and powerful, but at the same time gentle and delicate. He could feel it caressing his face as he wrapped his arms around himself and spun through the rotations. Finally, when his feet touched back on the ice, the landing felt like a natural extension of the jump itself. Yuuri quickly spun and glided to a stop by the baseboards, stunned that he had managed to pull it off.

“That’s it! See? You got it now, Yuuri!” Victor immediately skated over and wrapped his arms around the shorter male, hugging him tightly. Nodding his assent, Yuuri couldn’t muster the strength to push his coach away.

His heart was pounding. Excitement surged through him. It was as if it was his first time performing a jump successfully. Yuuri was ecstatic that he had finally managed to pull off the quad. Now all he had to do was replicate the same thing in his short routine and do it again and again.

 

By the end of practice, Yuuri was thoroughly exhausted. He had managed to pull off the quad a few more times though not every attempt was successful. According to Victor, he was still a little rigid and fighting the air when jumping, but at least he had made progress. They would work on incorporating it into his short program tomorrow, since he needed to be able to do it in the middle of a performance, not just as a one-shot thing. But for now, it was enough to just get off the ice and back to the changing room.

“Here, lie down on the mat, Yuuri.”

“Huh?” He looked up at Victor, unsure what his coach meant to do. Yuuri’s mind was fuzzed and he couldn’t really think straight after the adrenaline rush had faded and left him tired and worn out. After nearly an hour of repeating the jump over and over again, his legs felt like jelly, screaming in pain, and all he wanted was to dive into an onsen and let the hot water wash his fatigue away.

“Lie down. I’m going to help you stretch. You did a lot of hard work today and you need to stretch your muscles before they chill and stiffen up.”

“Okay.” Even if Victor hadn’t offered, he would have stretched anyways. Making himself comfortable on the mat he had brought, Yuuri closed his eyes, still trying to regain his breath. One of Victor’s hands came up to grasp his right foot while the other one held onto his right knee as Victor bent his leg into a ninety-degree angle, and then gently applied pressure to bring it across his body to the left side. He could feel the burn in his glutes as Victor helped him stretch. After the first leg was complete, Victor switched to the second one. When both were done, Yuuri could feel the tightness fade slightly.

Victor proceeded to take the leg he had just finished stretching and straighten it out, setting Yuuri’s calf against his shoulder. As he leaned forward into the back of Yuuri’s left leg, he straddled the top of the skater’s right thigh and placed a hand against his hip, applying gentle pressure to stretch Yuuri’s hamstring.

Yuuri himself was torn between wanting to relax into the stretch that he knew his muscles needed, and wanting to tense up and flee because this was the first time he found Victor Nikiforov between his legs and he had absolutely no clue how to deal with that. Even when Victor had helped him stretch in the onsen or when he had offered to wash Victor’s back, they had never been this intimate, and he was trying desperately to will away his body’s reaction. It didn’t help that Victor was quietly murmuring things like “that’s it, Yuuri...breathe...relax...” all the while his long fingers were curling around Yuuri’s hip bone as if they were designed to fit there.

Yuuri silently gritted his teeth and tried to slowly count ceiling tiles. He had reached two hundred thirty seven by the time Victor had finished stretching both legs; he slowly released a shaky breath, closing his eyes as Victor backed away from him slightly. He lay there for several quiet moments, muscles relaxing enough that he felt he could sink through the floor. He wished he could blink his eyes and teleport himself to the onsen.

“How flexible are you, Yuuri?”

Victor’s low-voiced question was slightly odd but Yuuri was tired enough that he didn’t bother opening his eyes just to answer. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Let me know if this hurts.” Humming noncommittally, the dark-haired man felt hands on the inside of his knees gently pushing them apart. Breathing the cool air in, Yuuri felt Victor shuffle towards him until something warm pressed up against his groin.

Popping his eyes open at the sudden warmth, Yuuri jerked his hips as if scalded the moment he saw how close Victor thighs were to his groin – they were practically flush against one another – but it was difficult to move when his legs were being held open by Victor.

“V-Victor?! What are you doing?!” Yuuri’s voice came out as an undignified squeak. The gleam in the man’s eyes looked far too wicked for a mere stretch.

“I’m just helping you stretch and making sure you have full rotational range of movement in both legs.” As if to highlight his point, Victor applied more pressure, leaning forward as he did so. A lock of hair fell from the man’s face, revealing both of those beguiling eyes staring straight into Yuuri’s, as Victor purred. “What did you think I was doing, kobuta-chan?”

 

* * *

 

**_Tuesday, September 1 st _ **

_I’m so happy for Yuuri! He finally pulled off the quad Salchow! He’s still a little stiff on the last rotation, causing him to rotate a little slower than he should, but I think he’ll definitely manage it if he doesn’t let his mind take over._

_I think our lessons are also paying off as his skating seems to embody Eros more and more, even if he’s not aware of it. And despite his protests, I don’t think my kobuta-chan is as innocent as he says he is. I was checking the rotational range of motion of his legs earlier today and he apparently thought I was doing something else. Oh Yuuri… it’s so tempting to tease him when he flushes like that. (●⌒ｖ⌒●)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Below are examples of the three stretches Victor helped Yuuri perform, so you can see them.  
> Stretch 1: [glutes](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mGmiOg4tG4k/UGKZbuVzIUI/AAAAAAAAB64/qMpj1U62Wc0/s1600/2.jpg)  
> Stretch 2: [hamstring](http://www.taekwondo-information.org/images/hamstring-stretch5.jpg)  
> Stretch 3: [bent-knee inner thigh](http://fitbottomedgirls.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/JSDS7545.jpg)


	5. Lesson 4: Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's breathing...and then there's _breathing_. And then there's wingman Makkachin.

He had done it. He had really pulled it off. Won the Chu-Shikoku-Kyushu Regionals. Even after everything was over and he’d returned to Hasetsu to get ready for the China Cup, it still felt surreal to Yuuri.

He let his mind wander as his skates slowly traced backward figure eights in the rink’s surface, the soft _schhlikkk_ of the blades across the ice soothing his anxiety. Victor was uncharacteristically late to practice and Yuuri was using the time alone to ponder and re-center himself after his win three weeks ago. Ever since their return, life had been moving at a breakneck pace he’d remembered from previous competitive seasons. After the press conference where he’d announced his theme for the Series and boldly claimed he’d win gold, Yuuri had been training pretty much non-stop, gearing up for the China Cup in a few short weeks.

It wasn’t like he’d never won these types of competitions before; he _had_ made it to the Grand Prix Finals last year after all, and he was considered one of Japan’s top skaters. But Yuuri knew his own limitations, knew he lacked the confidence to believe in himself, and finally, he knew that his biggest skating hurdles were mental.

Prior to the Regionals (and not counting his battle with Yurio), he hadn’t participated in a single competition since last season’s Nationals.

And yet within six months of Victor’s arrival, Yuuri was back in the thick of things, winning Regionals, establishing a new personal best, and actually enjoying himself. Instead of panicking over making a mistake, he was able to simply delight in performing on ice. He had forgotten how good it was to feel breathless, hearing the resounding applause from an audience, the exhilaration of the cold air wicking away sweat, and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears at the end of the routine. This recent competition was the most fun Yuuri had ever had skating. And that was saying a lot, considering he’d slammed his face into a wall.

He had been so nervous waiting for his turn on the rink, but Victor’s hug from behind helped to stabilize him in a way that nothing else had. The Russian’s voice had been low and sultry, breath ghosting across Yuuri’s neck and left ear as he commanded, “Seduce me with all you have.”

Yuuri’s unspoken response as he began the opening moves of his routine had been “ _I’m going to become a beautiful katsudon_.” And the look Victor had given him was worth every effort he made. It was a look of confidence and promise and determination, almost as if he were willing Yuuri from across the ice to sweep the blonde off his feet with Eros.

Yuuri had managed to land his hard-fought-for quad Salchow, even though he over-rotated and touched down; and his quad-triple combination turned into a quad-double. They’d disagreed over how to structure his jumps for the free skate, but in the end, Yuuri was the one on the ice and he had made the decision to skate his program his way, pushing himself to the limit. He had to find out whether he was in good enough shape for the GPS.

After an exasperated sigh, complete with dramatic facepalming, Victor had welcomed him with outstretched arms as he came off the ice, although that _had_ been a pretty shitty move he pulled, stepping to the side to avoid Yuuri’s bleeding nose and letting him faceplant on the ground. Sometimes, he was convinced that Victor was a petty six-year-old.

Speaking of his coach, Yuuri was starting to wonder just what the hell was keeping Victor, when he heard a sharp bark and Makkachin came scrabbling across the rink to greet him. The poodle’s claws lost traction on the ice’s surface and he flopped on his belly, sliding the last several feet to where Yuuri had knelt down to greet him with a smile. They played for a bit, Yuuri scratching behind his ears and Makkachin’s tail sweeping ice shavings up into the air.

Yuuri chuckled softly, remembering how Vicchan used to do almost the exact same thing. Well, if Makkachin was here, that meant Victor couldn’t be far behind. He looked up to find the Russian watching both of them with a grin on his handsome features. Feeling his cheeks warm and wanting to hide it, Yuuri decided to give his coach some of the man’s own brand of sarcasm.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s almost as bad as Aeroflot,” he snarked.

Victor stopped in his tracks, blinking once at Yuuri’s comment before his grin grew even wider and he chortled. “Hahaha, Yuuri! I like your sense of humor.” The Russian seemed unfazed by Yuuri’s comment and he continued talking as he removed his jacket. “I’ve been doing some research that might help you in the second half of your programs. I know you have good stamina, but at Regionals, you had only just started the second half and already you were tired. I’m sure you know the Grand Prix skaters are on another level entirely and the upcoming competitions won’t be as forgiving as the previous one.”

Yuuri tried not to let Victor’s statement get under his skin, but rather to accept it as an objective assessment. It was true; he’d felt pretty washed out by the end of things. He had attributed it to a fading adrenaline rush.

“So what do you suggest?”

“I think the problem is your breathing,” Victor stated simply. Yuuri was pretty sure he’d been breathing just fine, and gave his coach a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve been breathing pretty well for the past twenty three years, Victor. Could you be a little more specific?”

Victor raised a delicate eyebrow of his own in response to Yuuri's comment before continuing. “Yes you have, kobuta-chan. But the question is more about _how_ you’ve been breathing. You already know that you have to breathe through each element out on the ice, but I think you might be chest breathing instead of belly breathing.”

Yuuri gave his coach a blank look at that. What was Victor talking about?

“The bottom portion of your lungs brings in ten times more oxygen than the top portion," Victor elaborated. "If you’re chest breathing, you’re only using the top portion so you’re not getting as much oxygen to fuel your muscles correctly and I believe this is contributing to the fatigue in the second half of your programs. Combine that with the fact that you have to wrap your body tightly for quad rotations which restricts chest expansion even more, and you can see how you might have problems. Here, come with me; we can’t do this properly on the ice.”

Victor led him back to the locker room where Yuuri had stowed his gear. Makkachin continued to play with the ice chips for a while, before he got bored and padded off the rink after his humans. Victor grabbed the mat Yuuri used for his stretching exercises and unrolled it on the floor. “Go ahead and take your skates off; you won’t need them for this exercise.”

Unlacing his skates, Yuuri watched from the corner of his eye as Victor proceeded to do some simple stretches and then lie flat on his back on the mat. It was no surprise that Victor was flexible, but there was something about the way he moved that made a simple stretch seem like so much more.

“Okay, now come over here and kneel here next to me.” Yuuri knelt on Victor’s right side and Victor continued.

“Now, put your hand on my chest.” Yuuri tentatively reached out in the vicinity of Victor’s ribs, but the blonde grabbed his left hand firmly and placed it squarely in the middle of his chest. Victor’s heartbeat was strong and steady under his hand and for a moment Yuuri couldn’t help wondering what it would sound like under his ear instead. Whereas Victor was normally handsy, it was rare that Yuuri initiated touch between them although he had to admit to himself a growing desire to change that situation.

“Okay, now watch. This is chest breathing.” Victor took a deep inhale and Yuuri’s hand rose along with his ribcage. Victor held the breath for a moment and then gave a long exhale. He repeated the movement.

“See, chest breathing is exactly that. Instead of your diaphragm moving downward to expand your lungs, your ribcage opens up to do it. As a result, only the upper part of your lungs fills with air. Now let’s look at belly breathing. Keep this hand on my chest,” he covered Yuuri’s left hand with his own, holding it in place, “and put your other hand on my belly.”

Yuuri hesitated and Victor once again made a grab for his wrist, firmly placing Yuuri’s free hand on his abdomen. Yuuri froze in place.

“Yuuri? What’s the matter?” Victor’s voice seemed innocently concerned but Yuuri thought he could detect an undercurrent of... something. What, he wasn’t sure, though it didn’t sound like Victor’s usual teasing. The Russian’s abs were solid under his palm and Yuuri tried to concentrate.

“Now, then. Belly breathing actually uses the diaphragm instead of the rib muscles, pushing the belly out. Watch.”

Victor took another deep breath, only this time, instead of his chest rising, his abdomen expanded outward under Yuuri’s right hand.

“See how that works?” Victor breathed in and out once or twice more and then sat up, releasing his grip on Yuuri’s hands. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Here, lie down.”

Victor got off the mat and motioned for Yuuri to take his place. As Yuuri stretched himself out on his back, Makkachin decided it was time to play with the humans on the floor and romped over to pounce on Yuuri, licking his face enthusiastically.

“Pthbbt! Makkachin, cut it out!” Yuuri jerked his head from side to side and rolled around on the mat to dislodge the dog. Victor knelt at his side, and placed a hand on Yuuri’s chest while shooing Makkachin away.

“Stop fidgeting,” Victor admonished, and Yuuri held himself still, hoping Victor wasn’t paying attention to his increasing heartbeat. He found himself staring up at the ceiling tiles again; this was starting to become a habit.

“Okay, take a deep breath,” Victor instructed. Yuuri slowly inhaled deeply and his chest rose.

“See what I mean, Yuuri? You naturally chest breathe,” Victor pointed out. “Not only are you not using your full lung capacity to begin with, but it further decreases capacity when you do your jumps. Okay, let’s try breathing from your belly now.”

And with that, he reached to gently place his free hand on Yuuri’s abdomen. But the earlier tussle with Makkachin had caused Yuuri’s shirt to bunch up under his back and Victor’s palm landed directly on the strip of exposed skin between Yuuri’s navel and the top of the sweatpants that clung to his hips. “Slowly now, breathe in through your nose. The air should be expanding and filling your core. And then release it slowly through your mouth.”

Yuuri tried to focus fully on pushing his navel out as he inhaled according to Victor’s directions. The task required every ounce of concentration he had, and even then it was extremely difficult. His rebellious mind kept honing in on how Victor’s hand was warm against his skin, how the pads of his fingers lightly brushed through the thin trail of hair that led under Yuuri’s waistband, how Victor’s touch felt like it branded him even as he realized he wanted more of it.

The brunet wasn’t sure how many breaths he had taken before he realized that Victor had gone silent. Lifting his head to see if anything was wrong, he found the older man staring at his hand where it rested against Yuuri’s skin. Victor was unnaturally still and Yuuri could’ve sworn he saw what looked like a dusting of pink high on the man’s cheekbones.

“Ummmm, Victor? Is everything okay? Was I breathing correctly?” The question startled Victor and his hand clenched reflexively on Yuuri’s abs. Yuuri had to suppress an unexpected squeak as the sudden movement sent a tingle of electricity skittering across his nerves.

“What? Oh, yes. Everything’s okay. You did a great job with your breathing, Yuuri.” Victor’s voice was strained and he seemed distracted as he lifted his hand away. “I think... we should probably end the lesson here. You can continue to practice breathing like this later and then we’ll try incorporating it into your jumps.”

Victor rose to his feet and called for Makkachin. He mumbled something about needing to stop at the convenience store and then said he’d see Yuuri back at Yu-topia. And with that, he departed quickly, leaving Yuuri still on his stretching mat unsure of what had just happened.

  
  


When Yuuri returned home, there was no immediate sign of Victor so he headed for the onsen. Maybe he could get in a nice hot soak and just try to figure out what was going on.

He knew his attraction for Victor was growing. It was perfectly understandable, he reasoned as he stripped down in the changing room, placing clothing and glasses in one of the baskets and heading for the washing area. The man had been Yuuri’s idol for more than half his life; he was gorgeous, talented, an amazing skater, hot as fuck, and he practically oozed Eros from every pore.

He had come halfway around the world to be Yuuri’s personal coach. They were together constantly. For the past six months, not a day went by without him laying eyes on Victor, hearing his sultry voice, or basking in his encouraging smiles. Victor paid him inordinate amounts of attention, even if only as Yuuri’s friend and trainer. He was always patient with Yuuri, never crowding him emotionally but rather letting him open up naturally and meeting him halfway. Who _wouldn’t_ fall for someone like that? Yuuri absently grabbed his small towel and made his way from the washing area as his thoughts continued to chase themselves around his skull.

When the Grand Prix was over, Victor would go back to Russia. Ever since Victor’s arrival, Yuuri had suspected that he was merely taking some time off from his own hectic life. The brunet had confided his suspicions to Minako-sensei, who seemed to agree that seeing Yuuri’s viral video had simply given the Russian a ready-made excuse to take a break.

Completely preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t realize at first that Victor was already in the onsen, reclining against one of the larger boulders at the edge of the pool, staring off into space with a thoughtful expression on his features.

Makkachin’s presence is what tipped Yuuri off that Victor was in the vicinity as the pooch rose from where he’d been lying next to the double doors when Yuuri came through them. The movement caught Victor’s eye and Yuuri froze, trapped under the cerulean scrutiny until he flushed and broke eye contact. With the blonde’s pensive gaze on him, he clutched his towel in front of his body and began to step down into the pool.

Makkachin evidently took this as a signal; both of his favorite humans in the pool meant it was now playtime again – _why was he so hyper today?!_ – and he plunged happily into the hot water, sideswiping Yuuri and knocking him off balance.

Things seemed to happen in slow motion after that. Yuuri watched with a sort of detached fascinated horror as his foot slipped out from under him, his arms flailing comically. He noted Makkachin’s excited yapping as the dog heartily approved of this new playful development. And he couldn’t miss Victor’s exclamation of warning as he rose to his feet, arms outstretched to break Yuuri’s rapid descent.

Yuuri could feel the impact as he collided with the taller man, knocking him backward, Victor sitting down hard with a splash, his back coming to an abrupt stop against the boulder he’d originally been leaning on. Yuuri was sprawled half on top of Victor with his nose buried in the man’s collarbone, Victor’s arms around him, their bare chests pressed together and legs splayed out awkwardly.

“Yuuri! Are you okay?!” Victor’s soft exclamation was warm in his ear and his breath fanned through Yuuri’s hair as they both lay there catching their breath. He raised his head to reassure Victor that he was fine, only to freeze at their proximity to one another. They were _so_ close, noses almost bumping, and Yuuri’s mind wanted to shut down even as he became hyperaware of the teal-green flecks accenting the blue of Victor’s eyes.

He could feel Victor’s palms as they traveled up his sides to grip his upper arms and his breath hitched at the sensation. Victor’s eyes darkened at the sound, and the two of them remained locked in a private tableau, pressed up against one another, unmoving, close enough that Yuuri couldn’t tell whose breaths were whose anymore.

And in that moment, Yuuri had the unexpected realization that Victor was not unaffected by this, by _him_.

He knew he should move. This wasn’t wise. It was a futile attraction; Victor would be returning to Russia in a few short months. But this was _Victor_. Silly obnoxious forgetful infuriating beautiful _erotic_ Victor and Yuuri wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him stupid.

Something must have shown on his face, because Victor’s eyes widened a fraction before he sighed softly and gently maneuvered Yuuri off his body, his face an inscrutable mask.

“You seem to be okay, kobuta-chan, even if you are a bit clumsy. I’m glad you weren’t hurt, this close to the competition.”

“Yes, me too. Thanks for saving me.” Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, he murmured his agreement, and found a seat in the onsen a safe distance from Victor. Covering his head with his towel, Yuuri tried to bury himself as deep as possible in the water, hoping Victor didn’t suspect just how much his nearness was beginning to affect Yuuri. The closeness, the intimacy. This was rapidly becoming more than Yuuri was ready for. How would he ever be able to say goodbye when the Grand Prix was over and Victor chose to return to his homeland to reclaim his own life?

  


* * *

  


**_Thursday, October 15 th_ **

_It was really cute to see Yuuri encourage Minami-kun at regionals... it’s good that he’s realizing that he needs those connections with other skaters. Skating is often a lonely sport and I’m glad that Yuuri has some competitors who are also willing to be his friends._

_I wanted him to skate like he was the most beautiful person on the ice at Regionals. Because to me, he was. And he still is. I can’t look away. It’s getting harder and harder to be just his coach. I didn’t expect the way our breathing lesson would turn out, but all I wanted to do was touch him more and follow where that trail of hair would lead me._

_Note to self: buy steak treats for Makkachin! I don’t know what got into that dog, but knocking Yuuri into my arms in the hot spring was glorious!_ \\(≧▽≦)/ _The way he felt pressed against me, his head tucked under my chin... the way he leaned back to look in my eyes... it was almost like being back at the banquet when he asked me to be his coach. Well, minus the grinding part. His eyes are such a gorgeous color – a rich deep cinnamon – and I found myself wanting to drown in them._

 _I’ve given up thinking about the banquet though._ (´;︵;`) _It’s clear that Yuuri just doesn’t want to talk about it at all and as much as I love teasing my kobuta-chan, I don’t want to bring it up if he’s so ashamed of it that he won’t ever even mention it. I couldn’t do that to him._

_Maybe that’s what holds me back now. Is he ashamed that he begged me to be his coach? I told him I’d help him win gold at the Finals but now I want more than that. I want to stay by his side, but I don’t know if that’s what HE wants. And I need to maintain the boundary between us as his coach, even when he looks at me like he did in the hot springs, with a hunger that sends my blood rushing through my veins._

_Gahhh... How will I make it through the next few months and how can I convince him that I want it to be for longer than that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to determine your own breathing style, we used this page for reference:
> 
> [How to Breathe Correctly](http://www.marksdailyapple.com/how-to-breathe-correctly/)


	6. Lesson 5: Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kiss me senseless on the ice, kiss me senseless off the ice; just kiss me, damn it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer of a chapter this time, which merely means more for you folks to enjoy!
> 
> You can find a translation for the Russian sentence at the end of this chapter.

“Yuuri, Victor, I know it’s your last day here before leaving for Beijing, but don’t stay up too late!”

“Yes mom,” he called out before turning back to the television show Victor had fallen in love with and dragged him to watch. Yuuri didn’t understand what was so interesting about watching the dating game show. It was one of many airing which covered men and women doing a variety of silly scenarios trying to find their life’s partner. To him, doing things such as crossdressing or shaking hands blindfolded were certainly not enough to lead to falling in love.

“This time we’ll have them kiss and see if they can pick out who’s on the other side!” the game show host announced enthusiastically. Rolling his eyes, Yuuri watched as the contestants were blindfolded and led to individual booths where their potential dates – both men and women – were seated. The contestants had their mouths guided to a hole cut in the front of the booth and were told to kiss the booth’s occupant and then guess whether it was their date. Some of the kisses ended rather awfully, while others just looked weird.

“Poor guy...” Victor expressed his dismay when one of the contestants realized they had pressed too hard and their date had flinched away. Yuuri rolled his eyes again.

Seeing and hearing the raucous calls from the audience as people kissed on stage, Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder what it would be liked to feel a lover’s kiss. There were always stories about how romantic it was, but he had never experienced anything that intense himself. In his twenty-three years of living, Yuuri hadn’t really fallen in love before. He had dated and kissed a few times, had a few crushes, but it hadn’t been anything serious. As he had confessed on national television, the emotion he held towards Victor was the closest he had ever felt to what most called love.

Taking advantage of the fact that Victor’s attention was glued to the screen, Yuuri let his eyes roam over his coach’s profile. Ever since Victor had begun coaching him, he had had more than ample opportunity to openly observe Victor’s public face, both on the ice and at the onsen, but there had been few opportunities in which he could catch a completely open and unguarded expression on Victor’s handsome features.

Now, visually tracing the outline of Victor’s mouth, Yuuri remembered his free skate at Regionals, when the Russian’s soft fingers pressed against his lips as they applied lip balm. Or that time during his Onsen-on-Ice training, when Victor’s thumb caressed his bottom lip as he gently held Yuuri’s chin and spoke seductively about how he hoped Yuuri would soon show his true Eros. He thought about how Victor’s lips would quirk into welcoming grins when he performed well. And that small upwards crook at the left corner of his mouth whenever Victor smiled secretly.

“Have you ever been kissed Yuuri?”

“...huh?” Yuuri blinked, not quite processing the question. His sight had been glued to Victor’s lips, wondering what it would feel like if Victor kissed him.

“I asked, have you ever been kissed, kobuta-chan?” Darting his eyes up to meet Victor’s, he could see the twinkle of amusement in those beguiling blue orbs. Flushing immediately under the scrutiny, Yuuri turned his head to stare resolutely at the television as Victor continued. “Yuuri... where were you looking at just now?”

“No-nowhere...”

“Were you looking at my mouth, Yuuri?” Victor’s smile was downright devious as he reached for the remote to turn off the television and then shuffled closer to where Yuuri was sitting. “Do you want to try kissing?”

“Very funny, Victor.” Yuuri feigned indifference as his defense. The man seemed to enjoy teasing him a little too much for his own comfort, and this was undoubtedly one of those instances. “You must have been watching too much television.” Covering his mouth as a yawn escaped, he took a deep breath of fresh air and rose to his feet. Making his way down the hall towards his room, he called out from over his shoulder to Victor, “I’m going to go to sleep, you should too; we have a flight to catch tomorrow.”

Still, shuffling around on his bed several hours later, trying to get comfortable, it was difficult for Yuuri to fall asleep. It was even harder in the darkness without something to distract his thoughts from returning time and again to Victor sleeping in the next room. Pressing his fingers against his mouth, he wondered whether Victor’s lips were soft and plump or if they would be warm and firm against his. The idea of Victor’s lips mashed up against his sent a flutter down low in his stomach and Yuuri soon found himself drifting off.

 

Something warm pressed up against his body and Yuuri arched into the touch without conscious thought, imagining Victor’s lithe form against him. Soon enough, however, it became difficult to breathe. Something heavy was pinning him down and another something wet and slobbery covered his nose and mouth.

“G-get off!” Waving his hands to get rid of the wet, slippery sensation, Yuuri woke up to find himself being licked senseless by Victor’s giant poodle. Victor stood in the doorway, fully dressed, chuckling at the scene.

“Oh, so you’ll kiss Makkachin, but not me?” he teased.

“Ugh! No, thank you.” Yuuri rubbed his eyes trying to wake up fully, painfully aware that Makkachin was still flopped on him and pressing on a fairly delicate part of his morning anatomy. “What time is it?”

“A little before seven o’clock. You have just enough time to get ready. I’ll take Makkachin out and then we can leave.” With that, Victor made a kissy noise to call the dog and they both disappeared down the hallway, leaving Yuuri to get himself ready.

 

* * *

 

It was with a heavy heart that he tied his laces and glided onto the ice. Most might have argued he should have slept well given his performance in the short program, but if anything, that only amped up how anxious he was. The calls he received from family and friends back in Hasetsu hadn’t helped either.

Yuuri had tossed and turned throughout the night, questioning whether he would be able to live up to everyone’s expectations. It felt like the weight of an entire nation was on his shoulders. Not just everyone back in Hasetsu or all the skaters he had defeated in Regionals, but Victor – his lifelong idol and skating coach – would be watching as well. This wasn’t Victor’s debut as Yuuri’s coach but it _was_ his first international appearance as such. Yuuri only had one shot at this and if he didn’t place high enough at the China Cup, it would only make the Rostelecom that much more difficult and entry into the Grand Prix impossible. Yuuri should have been comfortable with his free skate; it was a retelling of his experiences on the ice. But being cognizant of that only made him even more nervous. What if he failed again this year like he had last year? What if he didn’t meet everyone’s expectations? What if he just wasn’t good enough?

Distracted by his thoughts, Yuuri was barely aware of the world around him as the skaters warmed up and he fumbled a jump that should’ve been elementary for anyone attempting to win the Grand Prix. A triple toe loop of all things. Leaning against the boards as he caught his breath, Yuuri didn’t know what to think. He had mastered that jump several years ago and messing up on it now was a bad sign.

He couldn’t help but think back to last year when he came in dead last in the Finals. Of course, Victor hadn’t known him then, but Yuuri could feel those crystalline blue eyes staring at him now. Everyone’s eyes were on him, probably whispering about how silly it was that someone who flubbed a triple toe loop could even possibly hope to compete for the title of Grand Prix Champion.

Finishing the rest of the warm-up without much thought, Yuuri could feel everyone watching him as he left the rink. As the leader following the short program, he would skate last in the free program, and it was with increasingly panicky dread that he watched Guang-Hong’s performance. He tried blocking his ears and just concentrating on stretching to keep his muscles warm until his turn but the anxiety had him in its clutches. Suddenly a hand descended heavily on his shoulder, startling him.

“Wha –? Victor?” Yuuri found himself suddenly tugged along by Victor’s grip on his sleeve and escorted to the underground parking garage. “Why are we here, Victor?”

“Yuuri, you need to calm down.”

“B-But...”

“It won’t do any good for you to be so nervous before your skate.” Victor’s arm had been warm around his shoulders as he led Yuuri down the stairs, but Yuuri could barely face his coach. He knew he was in danger of failing, which would only cause Victor to return to Russia that much sooner. “It’s what I’m here for, kobuta-chan. Tell me what’s wrong, Yuuri.”

“I-I-I can’t...” It felt like his legs would give in at any moment.

After all that work Victor had invested in getting him into shape and mastering his quad Salchow, if he couldn’t do it, he might as well call it quits. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for skating. It wasn’t like he was a prodigy like Victor or Yuri Plisetsky. He had barely mastered his short and free programs to begin with. Victor would have had a better chance of raising a champion if he had chosen to coach the other Yuri instead.

“Then tell me what you’re so afraid of, Yuuri.”

“It’s nothing...” Yuuri evaded the question. “What are the rankings right now, Victor?”

Victor assured him that everything was fine and that he should just take some deep breaths and practice his step sequences while they waited. He put his earplugs back in and tried to concentrate on doing just that. Eventually, his internal clock honed by years of skating experience let him know that it was about time to head back up to the rink. He removed his earplugs to let Victor know he was ready just as Pichit finished his free skate upstairs. Yuuri froze in his spot as the audience’s cheering for Phichit’s free skate burst above them, resounding and echoing even down in the parking garage. It felt like it shook the building and Yuuri was rooted in place, eyes wide and mind blanking. How could he possibly hope to defeat his long-time friend who had done so well?

“Stop! Don’t listen!” Victor’s hands came up to cup his ears, but it was too late; Yuuri’s mind could still hear the cheering even after the sounds stopped. They stood like that for countless moments, skater and coach, until Yuuri’s brain reminded him that there were only two competitors between him and Pichit and he needed to get back upstairs to perform regardless of the colony of bats that’d taken up residence in his gut.

“V-Victor? It’s almost time. I – we need to get back.”

When there was no response, as calmly as he could muster, Yuuri pulled Victor’s hands off his head and began to walk towards the stairs, passing Victor as he went.

“Yuuri.”

“Huh?” He turned back, questioning.

Victor’s voice had an edge to it and Yuuri inwardly flinched from the sound. His coach sounded fed up. Anyone would be after spending so much time and effort on unlocking his talent... a talent that maybe didn’t even exist. What would everyone think of Victor then?

The Russian turned to face him and ran a hand through his hair. “If you mess up this free skate and miss the podium, I’ll take responsibility by resigning as your coach.”

A handful of seconds passed before Yuuri could properly process what Victor had said. The words stung more than he could imagine as tears began streaming down his face. The months spent with Victor by his side had been a blessing for him, one that he did not know whether he could live without. The mere presence of the other man made his heart ache in a good way. Victor was not only his coach, but his reason for entering skating. Even if Yuuri would never admit it out loud, Victor was his _everything_.

“Why would you say something like that, like you’re trying to test me?!”

Victor began to backpedal, “Uh, sorry, Yuuri. I wasn’t being serious--” Victor raised his hands in a placating manner and walked towards him. Yuuri was having none of it by this point; his emotional dam had burst.

“I’m used to being blamed for my own failures!” he cried out. He had long since accustomed himself to the bitter tang of defeat, but none of that was Victor’s fault. If Yuuri had even one tenth the talent and confidence he was supposed to, he wouldn’t have been in this mess. As things stood now, his failure would mar Victor’s career, casting a shadow on it forever. “But this time I’m anxious because my mistakes would reflect on you too! I’ve been wondering if you secretly want to quit!”

He was flat-out sobbing by this point, shoulders heaving and big ugly tears of despair flying everywhere. Victor tried awkwardly to reassure him “Of course I don’t–”

“I know!!” Yuuri cut him off sharply, frustrated that _that_ was what Victor chose to focus on.

Silence fell between them, save for the sound of Yuuri’s crying. Finally Victor sighed, rubbing the back of head nervously. “I’m not good with people crying in front of me,” he confessed. “I don’t know what I should do. Should I just kiss you or something?” Victor sounded almost flippant, like he was trying to get a rise out of Yuuri, as though his question could snap the skater out of his funk, and that thought angered the brunet.

“NO!!” he shouted at the older man, surprising him. Yuuri knew he sounded completely irrational by this point, but he couldn’t believe that Victor could be _that_ clueless and insensitive. Yes, he _had_ dreamed of Victor kissing him, but this was neither the time nor the place. Nor was it what he needed most from his coach. It looked like he was going to have to spell it out for Victor and he practically screamed the needs of his heart at the man.

“Just have more faith than I do that I’ll win! You don’t have to say anything. Just stay by my side! Just STAND BY ME!!” He watched Victor’s eyes widen as he continued sobbing and hoped with everything in him that the message had gotten through.

 

They were both subdued as they walked back to the rink, Victor’s hand on his shoulder – each of them lost in their own thoughts and neither of them looking at the other. Awkward silence hung heavy between them, and Yuuri wished he could be somewhere, _anywhere_ , else at the moment, but life didn’t always work out that way and there was a competition he needed to finish. Win or lose, he would complete his free skate and then go back to Hasetsu to prepare for the Rostelecom in another three weeks.

Wiping his face, Yuuri didn’t think he had any tears left inside and he was emotionally spent as he tied his skates back on. He’d make an interesting picture on international TV, eyes and nose all puffy and red.

Victor had no words for him as he finished his preparations, but Yuuri could tell just by the look on his coach’s face that the older man felt guilty about how he’d handled the situation downstairs. Victor was having trouble looking him in the eye and Yuuri realized that maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance and someone’s unwavering belief.

He finished blowing his nose, and then on a whim, rather than placing the crumpled tissues into Victor’s gloved hand, he nonchalantly dropped them. Victor threw himself halfway over the boards to catch them and as he did, Yuuri poked his head right in the spot that Victor was vainly convinced was his bald patch.

The Russian froze, hung awkwardly over the side of the rink as Yuuri poked his head once more. He hoped Victor would understand the words he couldn’t say, ‘ _Yes, you messed up; you’re not perfect; you’re only human..._ ’ But then he patted Victor’s head with the flat of his palm affectionately, almost protectively, trying to convey the rest of his message ‘ _...but it’s okay. Thank you for trying your best. Thank you for caring and for having my back; I’ve got yours too; we’re in this together._ ’ And with that, he skated off to perform.

His tears had served to release all the anxiety that had build up inside him; Yuuri found himself going through his program with the sort of analytical numbness that could only be reached when all other emotions had been spent. His thoughts drifted to Victor. Could this be classified as their first big fight? Yuuri's relationship with Celestino had been nothing like this.

Stupid Victor. Over the past months, it had slowly dawned on Yuuri that his skating idol was made of ordinary flesh and blood and had his own flaws, just like everyone else. But instead of that realization making Victor seem _less_ , in Yuuri’s estimation it actually made him so much _more_. Gone was the boundary between fan and idol, and in its place Victor was simply Victor. It meant that the skating star he idolized was as human as Yuuri, and approachable and _very_ _real_ in a way that he hadn’t been when he was just a poster on Yuuri’s bedroom wall. And Yuuri...

Yuuri _loved_ him.

It was sheer muscle memory that kept Yuuri flowing through his routine as realization struck, though he was momentarily distracted from paying attention to the speed and control of his triple axel and ended up touching down as a result. Pushing aside the mental distraction, he refocused on his routine. That didn’t prevent a part of him from marveling over how appropriate it was that his epiphany should happen while skating his free program about love – his love – choreographed by the man he loved.

As the second half of his routine played out, he found he was more able to ignore the little wobbles here and there. Confidence and determination began to replace his mental fatigue. He wanted to surpass Victor’s expectations, wanted to become stronger, _knew_ that he had it somewhere down inside of him. As the music swelled, Yuuri decided to change his final jump. He had practiced it a few times before, but never in his free routine. And while the routine was about Yuuri, this final jump would be for Victor; would Victor understand what he was trying to say with it? As the music reached a crescendo, Yuuri breathed deep in his belly just like his coach had taught him, wrapped his arms tightly to begin the rotation and made a leap of faith.

 

It was over. Thank god it was over. That last jump had taken more out of him than expected and though his entire body was tired after all that transpired, his mind was energized and excited to hear what Victor thought. As soon as he saw the silver blonde running to the gate at the kiss and cry, he took off to meet him. “Victor! I did great, right?!”

Before he knew what was happening, Yuuri felt the world tilt as Victor crashed onto him. All he could see was Victor’s face blocking out everything else in the arena, those teal flecks in his irises _so_ close as Victor’s eyes closed and Yuuri’s went comically wide. And then there was nothing except the feel and taste of Victor against him, lips pressing against his in an openmouthed kiss as they landed in a heap, Victor on top of him.

Yuuri could barely process the cold ice against his back as Victor’s body pressed him down. Victor’s gloved hand at the back of Yuuri's head was probably the only thing that saved him from a concussion.

“This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you’ve surprised me,” Victor exclaimed warmly. Yuuri could hear the fond approval in his coach's voice, and he allowed Victor to see the affection in his eyes as he responded, “Is that so?”

 

* * *

 

It was late and things were finally winding down in Hasetsu. Victor and Yuuri had arrived home from China, only to be greeted by a party at the onsen in celebration of Yuuri’s silver medal. It had been an emotionally exhausting weekend, but Yuuri was nonetheless grateful for the love and support of his family and friends.

The Nishigoris had left the party a couple of hours ago to put the triplets to bed, and the other guests at the inn started trickling out shortly after that. Minako-sensei had stayed a little while longer, but needed to check on the snack bar after being away over the weekend. Yuuri’s mom had finally wrangled his dad off to their room with Mari’s help, the older man reeling drunkenly and belting out lyrics as if he were at a karaoke bar. Yuuri was just thankful that his party animal father hadn’t seen fit to paint faces on his stomach as he was wont to do when the alcohol flowed freely.

Now, as they sat alone in the semi darkness of the empty common room, Yuuri could feel the last dregs of energy seeping from his bones. He wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t navigate his way to his room, but he was pretty mellowed out on umeshu, which actually felt like a nice change from the past ninety-six hours.

Victor, on the other hand, had been having a sake-drinking competition with Yuuri’s dad, the two men bonding in their pride over Yuuri’s accomplishment. Yuuri half suspected that if Victor could’ve made it to his room, he would’ve changed into his Hasetsu tourism ambassador get-up. As it was, he was currently sitting on the tatami staring blankly at a television that wasn’t even on. Yuuri suppressed an amused half-drunk snort and reached for the older man.

“C’mon, Victor. We’ve had a long weekend and it’s time to get some sleep.” Victor was fairly docile as he let Yuuri help him up. Winding his arm around Victor’s waist, he pulled the man’s other arm around his shoulder as they began their trek to their respective rooms.

Yuuri was smugly pleased that they only bumped into the wall twice as they half-staggered their way through the darkened corridor, though they did have to stop at one point so that Victor could extricate his hand from where he’d accidentally put it through a paper screen. They would need to fix it come morning.

He managed to navigate them into Victor’s room and was about to leave, having deposited his coach next to the bed, when Victor flung his arms around him, exclaiming, “Yuuri, you did so well this weekend! I was so proud of you!”

Victor was slim, but as a skater he was all muscle and the momentum of his drunkenly exuberant embrace threw both of them off balance, not that they had much balance to begin with by that point. Yuuri toppled backward onto the mattress and let out a muffled ‘ _oof!’_ as Victor landed on top of him.

“This reminds me of China,” Victor garbled happily, nose and cheeks an endearing shade of alcohol-induced pink. “I kiissssed you!”

“I still can’t believe you did that!” Yuuri would’ve hidden his face behind his hands if he could’ve wiggled them up between their bodies. Victor had himself propped up on his elbows, long fingers splayed on the mattress on either side of Yuuri’s head. Strands of silver-blond hair fell around Victor’s face and Yuuri’s hand itched to reach out and tuck them behind Victor’s ear.

“What?” Victor blinked innocently. “I was jus’ doing _*hic*_ what you wanted me to.”

Color blossomed across Yuuri’s cheeks. “Victor, I told you I wanted you to stay by my side, not necessarily tackle me on the rink." _pause._    "In front of thousands of people." _pause._    "And on television." _pause._    "At an international competition.” Yuuri’s smirk belied the mildly scolding tone of his words, while the memory of those events – of Victor’s mouth on his and his hands cradling Yuuri’s head – stirred warmth low in his belly.

Victor pouted. God, he had the cutest pouty mouth Yuuri had ever seen. “But Yuuuuuuri,” he dragged the name out on a whine. “I _was_ staying by your side. It’s jus’ that we were _*hic*_ horizontal at the time.”

Victor looked inordinately pleased by his inebriated logic. Yuuri gaped at him in utter disbelief and then leveled his fiercest scowl at the older man for that ridiculous comment, but the effect was ruined when he let out his own undignified hiccup. Victor giggled – fucking _giggled!_ – like a schoolgirl at him.

Yuuri would’ve said more, but Victor lowered his head next to Yuuri’s ear, wisps of his hair tickling the brunet’s face.

“Oh Yuuri...” he breathed on a sigh. “You are my beautiful ka’s’don. So full of life... so full of eros...”

Yuuri felt like the wind had been knocked from his chest.

Victor began mumbling in Russian, slurring in a low husky tone as he nosed at the sensitive skin just beneath Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri couldn’t understand any of the words, but Victor’s voice made them sound like the most beautiful things in the universe and he made a distracted mental note to learn Russian.

Victor pulled back to look at him earnestly and Yuuri was trapped in that turquoise stare. He was pretty sure Victor could feel his heart about to beat out of his chest by this point.

“Yuuri, in China, I kissed you and I know you didn’t ask for it and I’m sorry if it bothered you,” Victor began, his words tumbling over themselves, “but I meant it. You are so full of surprises and sometimes you take my breath away with them.” Victor lowered his head towards his once more, glittering turquoise orbs boring into Yuuri, until their noses bumped and their breath mingled, and he whispered, “ _Potseluy menya, moy dragotsennyy misku svinaya kotleta._ ”

“Victor?” Staring uncomprehendingly, Yuuri wished he could understand Victor’s native tongue. Those words had felt like something a lover would say, but he couldn’t be too sure. Before he could question further, Victor spoke in that low cadence once more, words coming out as a ghost of warm breath skating over his ears in a language he could understand this time.

“Kiss me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri threw caution to the wind as he raised his head to close the scant distance between them without hesitation. Their teeth clacked awkwardly at first until Victor angled his head, and then brought his smooth lips back to glide across Yuuri’s slightly chapped ones.

The brunet wished he could’ve blamed his rashness on intoxication, but he knew he wasn’t that drunk. The plain truth of it was that he wanted Victor, _loved_ him... had probably been _in_ love with him for half his life, and how did that childhood hero-worship turn into this all-consuming _desire_ while he wasn’t looking? And suddenly it didn’t _matter_ that Victor would eventually go back to Russia because Yuuri was going to hang his hat on the old adage that it was better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.

He could taste the sake Victor had had as he licked his way inside his mouth. Yuuri’s senses were on fire and Victor was everywhere... his low hum in Yuuri’s ears, the scent of his cologne in his nostrils, the taste of sake on his tongue.

“Mmmmm...” Victor broke away just long enough to give him a heavy-lidded look, “you taste like plum wine,” before he began nuzzling Yuuri’s neck, planting soft wet kisses beneath his jawline and down the side of his throat. Yuuri found his breath hitching at the sensation and craned his head further back to give Victor more access.

And when Victor latched onto the tendon between his neck and shoulder and sucked ever so gently, Yuuri was helpless to stop the low moan that escaped him as the heat low in his belly burned hotter.

They stayed like that for several long minutes, slow passionate kisses between them until Victor let out a shaky sigh against Yuuri’s lips and buried his face in the crook of his neck, going still in Yuuri’s arms which had wrapped around him. Yuuri raised a hand to thread his fingers gently through the silver-blond strands, content to simply lie in Victor’s embrace for a little while. Victor was right, their position did remind him of China. Tonight’s events had shifted the atmosphere between them and Yuuri knew he’d need some time to sort through his own thoughts. Maybe it would be best if they just slept on everything for now; it was late, they were fatigued, and the alcohol had lowered inhibitions.

He was about to suggest as much to Victor when the older man let out a soft snore in his ear and cuddled a little closer against him. Huffing a fondly exasperated sigh, Yuuri carefully wiggled his way out from under Victor's weight and rolled off the bed. He fetched a couple of aspirin and a glass of water and left them on Victor’s bedside table, then pulled the cover up over his sleeping form. Pausing one last time before heading to his own room, the skater leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the crown of his coach’s head. In the darkness, Yuuri whispered his goodnight on the quietest of exhales.

“You take my breath away too, Victor. You always have.”

 

* * *

**_Wednesday, November 11 th_ **

_Omg! My head hurts sooo bad!_ (╥﹏╥) _But Yuuri was sweet and left me aspirin and water. I think we’ll skip practice today. I thought I could hold my own in drinking with Yuuri’s dad but that man is a beast!_

 _I kissed him! I kissed Yuuri!!!! More than once!_ (♥ω♥*) _I couldn’t help it in China...he was amazing! And exquisite! I was stunned that he went for the quad flip and I just... I couldn’t... it just felt right. His lips were soft and slightly chapped from the skate, but they felt wonderful and pliable against mine. I could’ve kissed them for hours... but of course we had to stop for the medal ceremony._

_I felt so bad that I made him cry right before the free skate. He’s my student and I’m supposed to support him, but I didn’t even know what he needed. I’m ashamed as a coach that I didn’t figure it out and that he had to spell it out for me. But maybe his tears helped him to deal with the pressure, because that... that free skate was even more beautiful than the composition I had put together! And after his confession in the parking garage and seeing his face as he came off the ice, how he completely lit up, how could I not give into the temptation to kiss him?!_

_And then last night...here on the bed. He kissed me too. I don’t even have words for it. Just remembering it now twists me in knots. How will I face him after this? He’s still my student! It’s not like we didn’t both enjoy it, going by that sinfully delicious noise he made when I sucked on his neck. Holy fucking Pavlov on a pogo stick, that was intense! But still..._

_Gahh... It’s so difficult to keep my distance._ (⋟﹏⋞) _I don’t want to. I want more of him. I don’t want to just help him win the GPS. I want to take him further. And I want to go with him. Yakov would yell at me for kissing my student and now I wonder if it was the right thing to do. Kissing Yuuri has only reminded me of that night at the banquet and how_ Eros _he’s becoming. I wish my katsudon wasn’t that seductive for everyone to see._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N: “Potseluy menya, moy dragotsennyy misku svinaya kotleta.” is Russian for "Kiss me, my precious pork cutlet bowl."


	7. Lesson 6: Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vkusno!!

“What do you want to eat, Yuuri? It’s on me today! Try the herring under a fur coat, it’s absolutely delicious!”

Yuuri didn’t know much about Russian cuisine so he wasn’t completely sure if that was the name of the dish itself or the manner in which he was supposed to eat it; but he was pretty sure that he wasn’t meant to take either of those things literally. Victor had insisted that he wanted to show him the finest foods of his homeland, and they took a fifteen-minute cab ride into downtown Moscow to a posh restaurant where Victor had been to on occasion.

The restaurant was located in a converted centuries-old mansion; its décor an elegant mix of dark hardwoods, marble floors, and plush armchairs. A huge crystal drum chandelier threw prismatic light to the furthest corners of the room and the low hum of conversation could be heard over the muted clinking of silver dinnerware on gold-rimmed china plates.

Yuuri perused the menu and then glanced around with interest as he sipped his lemon water. He wasn’t awed by his surroundings, but it was more extravagant than he was used to or could feel truly comfortable in. He really was just a kid from Hasetsu who was fortunate enough to stand on the international stage of ice skating. He noticed that the tufted chairs at their table were the same burgundy color as Victor’s costume from last year’s Grand Prix Final. Victor’s skating costumes had always suited him but some of them were as opulent as the chair he was currently sitting on, and Yuuri had to stifle a giggle at that thought. Victor picked up on it anyway.

“Hmm?” he hummed inquisitively as he sipped his wine. “You look amused by something. What’s on your mind, Yuuri? ”

The brunet hid behind a gulp from his water glass as he gathered his thoughts. Victor had been excited about coming here and Yuuri didn’t want to hurt his coach’s feelings with snarky observations. He hummed noncommittally.

“Oh, nothing, just silly thoughts,” he responded, and then continued a little more cautiously. “You must miss all this occasionally,” he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the room. “I mean, you left it behind to come to Hasetsu. We have delicious food and beautiful scenery back at home, but it’s different from this. Do you ever get homesick, Victor?”

Victor set his wine glass back on the table. “I thought I’d never leave Saint Petersburg, to be honest. And yet, I don’t regret going to Hasetsu to become your coach. You have what it takes to go all the way to the top, Yuuri, and I’m going to help you get there.”

There it was again. Yuuri noticed that whenever Victor talked about going to Hasetsu, it was always couched in phrases about how he’d help Yuuri win the Grand Prix or earn gold or make it to the top. But there was almost nothing in his words about how Victor himself felt. Did he like it in Hasetsu? Would he want to stay once the Grand Prix was over?

Yuuri hoped so. Things had shifted between them that night in Victor’s room three weeks ago. Victor still teased him incessantly, but his laughter was warmer now. His smiles for Yuuri seemed more intimate somehow...as though they were sharing a deeply private moment between them, even when it was the most mundane occasion. 

Not to mention that Victor now stole every opportunity he could to sneak kisses whenever no one else was around. Gentle pecks to Yuuri’s cheek in the morning as he shuffled past him in the kitchen, heading for the coffee pot. Lingering presses of lips along the column of his neck as Victor’s deft hands worked the knots out of Yuuri’s shoulders. Hot passionate openmouthed kisses between them on the nights when Yuuri was headed to his room and Victor’s door would slide open, an arm reaching out to waylay him and pull him inside, where tongues tangled and sighs were exchanged and unvoiced emotions burned hotter and brighter.

Yuuri loved those moments as much as he loved Victor, but he couldn’t shake the disquieting suspicion that as wonderful as this new closeness between them was, it was still only temporary. They were living in a bubble that would burst the moment Victor returned to Russia. And that feeling was the reason the words were still stuck in his throat. Telling Victor he loved him would only make things awkward between them and put pressure on the man. As much as Yuuri wanted him to stay, he wanted it to be Victor’s choice to do so, unhindered by any perceived emotional obligation.

Now they were in Moscow for the Rostelecom, and he was getting to see a side of Victor he didn’t remember seeing in Japan. The Russian was in his element here in his homeland, sitting relaxed in the glamour of a swanky restaurant befitting a five-time world champion, calmly sipping his saperavi as a waiter brought Victor’s jellied oysters appetizer and then quietly withdrew, giving both men a few more minutes to look over the menu and choose an entrée.

“Oooh, what about the crab and black ravioli? Or the borscht?” Victor sounded as eager as a child in a candy store as he scanned the listings. “Or the duck breast with mushrooms in cream sauce? Or the creamed clams and truffle tapenade?”

Yuuri quietly sighed. “Victor, The short program is tomorrow and you know I don’t eat heavy foods right before a competition.”

“Hmmm, true enough,” Victor acknowledged. He paused to scoop one of the oysters out of its shell and into his mouth. Yuuri watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Victor could make the simplest things look seductive and the brunet could feel telltale heat suffusing his cheeks. He squirmed a little in his seat, glancing away, and reached for his water glass. When he looked back, Victor’s gaze was on him, focused, intent.

“Want to try the oysters?” he asked Yuuri in a low voice. “You’re skating Eros tomorrow. Not that you need it, but would you like a little...” he paused for effect, “... _help_ with that?”

Yuuri almost choked on a mouthful of water at his coach’s brazen flirtations. “Victor, that might be the cheesiest thing you’ve said yet,” he deadpanned, blotting his chin with his napkin.

Victor’s impudent grin was unrepentant. “Oh come on, Yuuri... just try them.” He held out a shell for Yuuri to take.

“Nope, sorry. Not gonna happen.”

The waiter came by to take their orders at that moment and Yuuri was thankful for the reprieve. Victor chose the crab with black ravioli, caviar, and mushrooms in cream sauce. Yuuri opted for rack of lamb with steamed seasonal vegetables. As the waiter withdrew once more, he continued speaking. “I need to be at my best tomorrow."

Victor conceded the point, but made one last attempt. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he purred, and provocatively tipped his head back, letting the oyster slide into his mouth and down his throat, his teal gaze locked on Yuuri the entire time. “Mmmm... _vkusno_.”

Yuuri decided two could play that game. He said nothing at first, glancing down at the table where he toyed with his fork. But when he raised his eyes again, he put everything he had into the smoldering look he threw Victor’s way; it was satisfying to watch Victor’s eyes widen.

“Well then, maybe you can show me when we get back to Hasetsu,” he challenged, his own voice sultry.

If anything, Victor’s stare only intensified as he dipped his chin slightly in acknowledgment. Never once breaking eye contact, he took up the gauntlet.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Yuuri could hardly wait.

  


* * *

  


“Here you go, Yuuri.” There was a clatter as a bowl of freshly made katsudon was placed in front of him. Another clatter followed as a bowl of unagi don was set in front of Victor. “And for you, Victor.”

Yuuri knew that technically he wasn’t supposed to have his favorite dish unless he’d won a competition, and fourth place hardly counted as winning. But considering everything they went through in the past week, he didn’t really care at this point. He needed some comfort food and the sooner the better.

It had been hard, SO damn hard, to stand off to the side and watch as JJ, Yurio, and Michele took their places on the podium. Yuuri had wanted so badly to win, wanted to make Victor proud of him. And it seemed like everything had been going perfectly at first. His Eros routine had been another personal best, leaving him in excellent position after the short program, second only to JJ. He’d skated almost flawlessly, nailing every jump and the adrenaline rush as he came off the ice felt fantastic.

He and Victor had also continued their playful teasing from dinner the night before. The initial look on Victor’s face when Yuuri reeled him in by the necktie had been priceless, his astonishment giving way to a sexy smirk as Yuuri murmured seductively in his ear about showing his love to all of Russia. The brunet then raised the stakes by throwing an actual kiss to his coach as he began his routine. But Victor rose to the challenge, one-upping him by dropping to his knees in front of Yuuri and kissing his skate in the kiss-and-cry. The sight of Victor on his knees had been enough to bring a blush to Yuuri’s cheeks earlier when he tied Yuuri’s skates before the performance. But this time, it was coupled with Victor’s hand closing on his leg just above the boot of his skate and his thumb pressing tiny insistent erotic circles on the inside of Yuuri’s right calf where the cameras wouldn’t catch it. Yuuri had never been gladder that half of his costume was skirted because it would help to hide the tightness in his pants. 

The entire evening had left him feeling like they were on top of the world...right up until Mari called and then it all fell apart. Victor had offered to stay, but Yuuri knew from experience the regret Victor would face if he didn’t return to see Makkachin. In the space of three hours, they had rushed back to the hotel and gotten Victor packed and off to the airport. And Yuuri had been handed over to Yakov to finish the competition. Given the abrupt turn of events, he should’ve been thankful that he even managed to squeak out a fourth place finish. Still, he felt like he’d let Victor down somehow. And he knew that the only thing that truly saved his chances at the Finals was the silver medal won in China.

Now here he was back home, both of them a little worse for wear after the separation and tearful reunion. Yuuri felt as though he just needed to be close to Victor, regardless of where they were or what they were doing; he found himself constantly wanting the reassurance of being in Victor’s presence and it was a little unnerving to be reminded of just how much a part of his life the Russian had become. Maybe that’s why he found himself craving the comfort food now that it was all over. The crisis had been averted, but his brain was only just beginning to process everything that happened, as well as everything that _could have_ happened. He reached down beside him to pet Makkachin’s head, receiving a cold nose and an affectionate lick for his efforts.

Consciously setting aside his fretting for the time being, Yuuri inhaled his bowl’s tantalizing aroma appreciatively. “Smells amazing. Thank you, mom!”

“Maa, you say that every time, Yuuri.” His mom beamed a smile and headed back to the kitchen. “Congratulations on getting into the Grand Prix Final, you deserve it.”

“I didn’t do everything; Victor deserves some of the credit.”

“I know.” She turned to face his coach with a warm smile on her face. “Thank you for agreeing to coach our Yuuri.”

“It was my pleasure. Yuuri is already a great skater and very strong on performance elements, which made it fun to coach him.”

“Did you hear that Yuuri?” Hiroko beamed. Yuuri nodded, only half paying attention to the conversation. He was too busy trying to refrain from diving into the mouthwatering smells in front of him. It wouldn’t do to stuff himself like a pig. “Go on and eat, I know you boys deserve it.”

“Itadakimasu!” Inhaling deeply, he could smell the fried pork deliciousness enter him, causing him to salivate. It had been forever since he had had katsudon. Worse were the days Victor would eat it in front of him, when he could smell the heavenly goodness, see it in front of him, hear the crunch of the pork, but not take a bite.

“Mmmm...” Yuuri moaned as he bit into a piece of tonkatsu, feeling the crunch of the pork cutlet and the juiciness of the meat melt in his mouth. The probation period had been hellish, but it made the bowl in front of him that much more delicious. “Mom’s katsudon is really the best. “Thank you again, mom!”

“You’re welcome!” There was a delighted smile on his mom’s face as she wandered back towards the kitchen.

Making sure that his mom was out of sight so she couldn’t fuss as his lack of dinner etiquette, he dug into the katsudon with gusto. Taking another bite of his dinner, Yuuri’s mouth was in utter heaven as he took a spoonful of rice, egg, nori, and pork. He had to stop himself from practically inhaling the rice bowl, taking the time to slowly taste the flavors on his tongue, feeling them resonate deep inside him. It was delicious and he let out another involuntary moan. “Oishiii...”

“Ahem.”

“Victor?” Looking up mid-bite, Yuuri caught himself in the crosshairs of Victor’s intense blue eyes. There was a strange light in his coach’s eyes. When the man didn’t say anything, he held out the piece of pork cutlet he was about to dig into. “Are you hungry? Did you want some?”

“Ah, no... it’s okay...” There was a small blush across Victor’s nose and cheekbones as he hurriedly looked away from the brunet to take a bite out of his own unagi don. Looking between the piece of cutlet and Victor, Yuuri held it out again.

“You sure...? I know how much you like katsudon.” He injected a little more teasing into his voice this time, knowing how much Victor liked eating katsudon. When the man didn’t respond, he shrugged and popped the piece of pork into his mouth, moaning as the taste exploded in his mouth. “Mmm... delicious.”

It was strange. Several months ago, right around the time he had first met Victor, Yuuri had thought of katsudon as Eros. But now, having his heart completely captured by the man in front of him, nothing could compare to those feelings. It wasn’t that Yuuri had stopped loving katsudon – he still did – but the taste of the meat melting in his mouth, the umami flavoring, or spoonful of nori, egg, and furikake couldn’t compare to the overwhelming warmth that suffused him whenever he thought of Victor.

Seeing a smile grace those lips filled him with longing. Watching the sunlight shine off those silvery blonde strands as they jogged along the river made him ache to run his hands through those soft locks. Every feather-light touch sent a spark through him, ignited a simmering in his gut that didn’t end when night fell. Any conversation they had seemed to carry on like there was no tomorrow; he never wanted them to end. As interesting as it sounded the first few times, Victor’s accented Japanese was like music to him, the deep cadence flowing in Yuuri’s ears. It was the voice that he wanted to hear simple phrases such as ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ from. Yuuri loved the sight of Victor, droopy-eyed and yawning, having just gotten out of bed, the same way he loved the sight of Victor in the onsen bared for all to see. Clumsy Victor, acting childish when drunk. Caring Victor, coaching him through how to better improve his routine. He could spend his life learning all the faces of Victor – thought he had done so over the last several months – but there always seemed to be something new. 

The Eros routine Victor had composed had taken on a new meaning for him over the months he skated it. Instead of using his feelings towards katsudon, Yuuri now delivered the routine using his feelings for Victor to guide him. He was pretty sure his feelings were reciprocated, but it was still an unspoken thing between them, despite Victor’s observation that Yuuri’s earnest plea in the airport sounded more like a marriage proposal than a coaching request... just before he wrapped him in his arms and accepted it. To Yuuri, _On Love: Eros_ was like a love letter from Victor to him, and now he was replying to that love with his performance on said routine.

Life couldn’t get much better than doing the thing he loved, enjoying the taste of his favorite food, and being next to his favorite person. Yuuri had been fortunate Victor had agreed to coach him and he was going to make sure he repaid the man with his performance at the Finals.

Humming contentedly around his chopsticks as he took another bite, Yuuri could feel Victor’s arresting aquamarine gaze on him. Or more specifically, on his lips as he chewed. His coach looked like he had barely tasted his food – there was nary a dent in the unagi don – too fixated on watching him eat.

Scooping some rice into his spoon, Yuuri stole a glance at Victor who hadn’t seemed to change his expression at all. “You suuure you don’t want a bite?” He held it out for Victor, complete with a piece of tonkatsu. “You’ve been staring at me eat for a while now.”

“N-no... it’s okay Yuuri. I know how much you enjoy your katsudon.”

“Seriously, Victor, we can trade. Here, I’ll give you some of mine and you can give me some of yours.” Although Yuuri was sure his coach wasn’t staring because of his love for katsudon, he wanted to share his delight in his favorite food with Victor. And if he could tease the Russian in the process, then all the better. Leaning forward, he hovered his piece of pork in front of Victor’s lips, half serious and half teasingly, and murmured, “You don’t know what you’re missing.” 

Victor looked conflicted, eyes darting between him and the piece of meat. “Fine,” he acceded, although he still wouldn’t eat the food directly from Yuuri’s chopsticks. Dropping the tonkatsu into Victor’s bowl, he retracted his hand and watched as Victor transferred a small piece of unagi to his bowl. As much as the idea of feeding Victor appealed to Yuuri, his parents were in the other room and he didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Thank you, Victor.” Smiling impishly, Yuuri spooned the unagi with some rice and popped it into his mouth, deliberately closing his eyes, as he took his time to fully savor the mildly sweet unagi. It wasn’t as good as katsudon, but it was still very tasty. When he was finished swallowing, Yuuri popped the spoon into his mouth, licking off the stray granules of flavored rice and made a show of licking his lips appreciatively. “Mmmm... the unagi is really good too.”

A small choking sound erupted across the table and he popped his eyes open to see Victor coughing. “Victor! Are you okay?”

“Y-yes...” Pouring a glass of water for his coach, he watched as Victor downed it and the coughing sound stopped. “I’m alright.”

“If you say so.”

After one last cursory glance to make sure Victor was okay, Yuuri picked up his spoon to finish eating his katsudon, humming enticingly as he scooped the last bits from the bowl.

“Why are you making those sounds, Yuuri?” Victor sounded almost pained as he asked the question.

Yuuri gave him a doe-eyed look. “You mean eating sounds?” Those had been the only sounds he had been making. “I’m just showing my... _appreciation_ for my mom’s hard work. You know how _amazing_ it tastes.” Seeing Victor’s look of disbelief, Yuuri smiled a bit too innocently at him, a dimple appearing in his right cheek as his grin turned sly. “Why Victor... whatever did you _think_ I was doing?”

Victor burst out into a cacophony of coughs once more, this time loud enough that his mom heard and rushed over asking what was wrong. Yuuri hid his grin as he went to wash his dishes in the sink, but not before he caught the glint in Victor’s narrowed gaze that let him know the older man had caught onto what Yuuri was doing and was ready to play their game once more.

  
  


Yuuri couldn’t say he was all that surprised when the door to Victor’s room slid open as he was walking past it on the way to his own room that night. He’d been returning from the onsen, dressed only in sweats and toweling his hair dry. What _did_ surprise him was that Victor made no sudden move to snag his arm and pull him inside like he usually would. Instead, he stood leaning against the door frame in low-riding pajama bottoms and nothing else, arms crossed, and one protruding hip cocked enticingly, watching Yuuri with an intense gaze.

Yuuri swallowed hard, mouth gone dry. For all the times he’d seen the Russian nude, it was moments like this that made him realize just how mouth-wateringly sexy Victor was. Everything about the man appealed to Yuuri, from his aristocratic features to his dorky laugh and from his chiseled body honed by years of training to the smile that lit up his eyes from the inside.

He realized that Victor wouldn’t pull him into the room tonight. Just as things had shifted between them a month ago after China, they had once more when Yuuri had gotten home this time. Victor had made it clear what he wanted in his words at the airport – ' _I hope you never retire_ '. Victor wanted to stay with him. The ball was in Yuuri’s court.

Stepping into Victor’s personal space, close enough to feel the heat from his body but still not touching, Yuuri simply watched his facial expressions. Victor straightened slightly and took a step away from the door frame in silent invitation and Yuuri followed, maintaining the hair’s breadth of distance between them. It was a delicate dance they synchronized as they moved further into the room. Victor's hand reached to begin sliding the door shut and Yuuri’s hand reached to complete the action.

A stray droplet of water fell from the brunet's still-damp hair, riding the column of his neck and coming to rest in the hollow of his collarbone. He watched as Victor’s eyes followed its progress and when it stopped, the Russian slowly lowered his head to lap it up. It was the only point of contact between them. But Victor’s tongue on his skin was all Yuuri needed to stoke the heat that had been simmering in his gut for so long now. 

Taking the lead in their dance, he tilted his head in an invitation of his own and took a step backwards. Victor followed, his mouth now pressed against the pulse point in Yuuri’s neck. He knew Victor could tell his heart was racing, but he continued his movements. _Step.   Pause.   Step.   Pause._ Victor’s mouth was hot and wet on his throat as he followed in perfect rhythm. They danced like this until they reached the edge of the bed and Yuuri lowered himself along Victor’s body until he was sitting on the mattress.

Victor sank gracefully to the floor and slowly pushed Yuuri’s knees apart, moving boldly into the space he created for himself. His hands kneaded Yuuri’s legs as they climbed higher, thumbs pressing the insides of his thighs.

Yuuri could taste the mint from Victor’s toothpaste as the silver-blonde surged upward to seal their mouths together. There was nothing soft in Victor’s kiss this time; it was hard and hot and insistent and stole his breath as Victor pushed forward until Yuuri’s back was flat on the mattress with his bare feet still on the floor and Victor was hovering over him, still between his legs, arms on either side of Yuuri’s head.

Smoothing his palms up over Victor’s biceps and along his shoulders, Yuuri paused briefly to admire the contours of Victor’s body, before dragging his nails down the man’s bare chest. The Russian’s eyelids drifted shut as his head fell forward on a shaky exhale.

“Yuuri, do you have _any_ idea what you do to me?”

“If it’s half as much as what you do to me, I think so,” he responded, raking his nails lightly back up Victor’s torso and looping his arms around the man’s neck, threading his fingers into soft silver-blond strands.

No sooner were Yuuri’s hands out from between them than Victor lowered himself. He aligned their bodies and then rolled his hips into Yuuri and the brunet was helpless to stop the long breathy moan in the back of his throat.

“Vitya,” he sighed raggedly.

Victor froze, going silent for a good minute. Yuuri was afraid something had happened. He was just about to ask what was wrong when Victor raised his head to pin him under that teal gaze. His voice was low and urgent, “Where did you hear that?” 

Yuuri was momentarily confused until he made sense of Victor’s question. “Y-Yakov used it when he was talking about you. I figured it was a nickname and probably everyone called you that.” He blushed even hotter under Victor’s stare, but refused to look away as he continued, “And I... I started thinking of you like that in my head, I guess. It... it fit you somehow, in a way that ‘Victor’ didn’t.”

“Say it again. Say my name again, Yuuri.”

Yuuri almost hesitated but Victor ground down again and Yuuri was all too happy to oblige.

“Viiitya…” Head thrown back, eyes fluttering closed.

“Again.” Intense. Commanding. Another roll of hips and this time Yuuri bucked up to meet him. A moan shared between them. Delicious friction.

“Viiityaaa...” Drawn-out, breathless and wanting.

“Yuuri,” Victor’s voice was gravelly, “you...you can’t use that name outside this room, because I won’t be responsible for my actions if you do.” Victor lowered his head, soft strands of hair tickling Yuuri’s chest as he darted his tongue out to swirl around one of the brunet's nipples. He blew on it softly and watched it tighten. Yuuri squirmed under him.

“God, Victor... I want to touch you.” 

Victor shook his head gently, hair swaying back and forth across Yuuri’s body.

“No, my precious Yuuri. Tonight, you’re mine. Mine to enjoy and savor and taste.”

He began kissing his way down Yuuri’s ribs and over his stomach, licking and gently biting as he went and interspersing his actions with softly murmured Russian. Lowering himself to his knees and keeping Yuuri fully pinned under his weight, Victor nosed through the trail of hair just under Yuuri’s navel.

“Remember our breathing exercise, Yuuri?” he husked, “Here’s where my hand rested as you practiced.” He mouthed at the trail low on Yuuri’s abdomen and the brunet shuddered beneath him. “Do you think you could belly-breathe now? For me?”

Yuuri was lucky he could remember to breathe at all, but if Victor wanted a belly-breath, he’d give him one. Slowly he inhaled, pushing his stomach out. With his feet still on the floor, the movement caused his back to arch slightly and Victor slid his sweats down further, exposing the vee of his hips and nosing into the juncture. Yuuri gasped.

“Haaaah...that’s _so_ not fair... Vitya.”

Victor rewarded the use of his name by sucking on Yuuri’s hip, gently holding him in place as the brunet writhed.

“Victor. I want...” he panted, “I want...” 

Victor’s words were tender as he responded. “Yes, it’s time, _prelest' moya_.” He slid Yuuri’s sweats off the rest of the way, kissing the insides of his legs as his hands found their way back to Yuuri’s hips. Yuuri raised his head to catch Victor’s attention, lust-blown pupils wide in his coffee-colored eyes.

“If you won’t let me touch you, then touch yourself. Let me see you; let me hear you. Please... Vitya.” 

He watched Victor’s irises darken, heard his swift intake of breath followed by a growl deep in his chest. And then there were no more words as Victor bent over him. There were moans and sighs and gasps. There were his hands tangled in soft silver-blond strands. There was the feel of Victor’s hand on his skin, and the sound of Victor’s other hand on his own skin. And there was the heat and the slick wetness of Victor’s mouth. Victor took him apart piece by piece, and when he hollowed his cheeks, all Yuuri was capable of was “ _Vitya...Vitya..._ ” repeated in a broken whisper like a mantra.

Victor peaked first and Yuuri could feel him shuddering where he knelt between his legs. The low moan from the back of Victor’s throat vibrated through his body pushing him to the edge of the precipice. He stuttered a warning but Victor refused to move, other than to release the grip he had pinning down Yuuri’s hips and then reach up to interlace their fingers, locking their hands together. He lifted his gaze, teal eyes meeting brown, and then Yuuri was coming hard, his body curling up and around Victor as he coaxed him through it. 

They stayed motionless for a few moments until Yuuri became too sensitive and he tapped Victor’s shoulder. Victor released him gently and the brunet fell back to the mattress in a boneless puddle. He really wasn’t sure what to say at that point, but Victor looked at him almost smugly.

“Vkusno!” he exclaimed quietly as he gave Yuuri a cheeky grin. The absurdity of his comment broke any awkwardness between them as they both dissolved into giggles.

Victor helped him to sit up, then grabbed Yuuri’s damp towel to clean himself up; he crawled onto the bed next to where Yuuri was sitting, wrapping himself around the brunet’s back.

“Yuuri, will you please stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be without you right now. The time we were apart was awful."

“I felt the same way, Victor,” he answered softly. “And yes, I’d like very much to stay.”

They crawled beneath the blankets and Yuuri snuggled into Victor’s side, laying his head on his chest. The blonde’s heartbeat was strong and steady under his ear as Victor curled one arm around Yuuri’s waist and threaded the fingers of their other hands together. They heard a faint scratching at the door and Victor got up to let the dog into the room, then returned to bed and slotted their bodies together once more. Makkachin padded over to Yuuri’s side of the bed and flopped his head on the mattress with a slight whine. Yuuri slid his legs closer to Victor, making room for the poodle to jump up and get comfortable with his two humans.

“ _Dobroy nochi_ , my sweet katsudon; sleep well,” Victor whispered, brushing a kiss to Yuuri’s temple.

Yuuri stifled a yawn, burrowing further in Victor’s embrace. “Oyasumi, Victor.”

  


* * *

  


**_Wednesday evening, November 25 th_ **

_I’m so happy my kobuta-chan made it into the Finals!_ (*^▽^*) _I knew he could do it! Now all he needs to do is do it one last time for the competition itself!_

_Thank god Makkachin’s okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he didn’t make it and I couldn’t have gotten here in time. How does Yuuri live with his sadness? I’ve seen the photo of him and his dog, and he told me what happened last year and it makes me just want to cry and just hold Makkachin and Yuuri even closer._

_I was so relieved when Yuuri finally came home. And omg, did I just refer to Hasetsu as “home”? Not sure what that means and I don’t want to think too closely about it just yet. It’s enough that Yuuri’s back here with me safe and sound. I know Yakov did his best, but it was heartbreaking to see the difference between Yuuri’s short program and free skate and to think that maybe it happened because I wasn’t there to support him. I’m just so glad he’s back; I missed him terribly._

_But gahhh! Who knew that Yuuri eating katsudon would be so erotic?! I know we were flirting in Moscow but I didn’t think he’d do it with his MOM RIGHT THERE IN THE OTHER ROOM!! Why did he have to lick his spoon in front of me? And those sounds he made! GOD! ( ≧Д≦) I’m 100% sure he was playing with me; well two can play at that game. But it’s so difficult to fall asleep when I can still hear his moans in my ears... damn it! It must have been the eels..._

_Ahh, I think I hear him in the hallway..._

  


**_Thursday morning, November 26 th_ **

_I’m not even sure I have words to describe what I’m feeling this morning. Yuuri’s sleeping in my bed. Right now! NAKED! And the night we spent together was... omgomgomgomgomg._ o(^◇^)o (♥ω♥*)

_He called me ‘Vitya’. I never knew my nickname could give me a boner, but evidently it does when Katsuki Yuuri says it._

_I can’t believe I made such a dumbass comment as 'vkusno'. Really Victor?! WTF? I mean, he really **was** delicious but still. I’m just lucky that we were both silly and dorky enough to laugh about it._

_I want nothing more right now than to crawl back in bed with him and wrap him up in my arms, nuzzle his hair, smell his skin. I want to watch him wake up. Today, tomorrow, next year... he asked me to stay with him until he retires. I want it to be longer than that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N: Russian phrases:
> 
>  _vkusno_ \- delicious  
>  _prelest' moya_ \- my precious  
>  _Dobroy nochi_ \- Good night
> 
> For those of you who may be wondering, yes, 'herring under a fur coat' is a real dish. You can find a recipe [at this link](http://www.opb.org/artsandlife/series/cookitathome/cook-it-at-home-bonnie-morales-herring-under-a-fur-coat/).
> 
> Victor's restaurant is loosely patterned after [this one here](http://raffhouse.com/en/restaurant.php).


	8. Lesson 7: Eros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Eros...Sexual Love. Pleasure followed by pleasure. One just drowns in it.”_  
>  ~Victor Nikiforov

Warm. He was warm. And while it felt wonderful, it wasn’t usually that warm in his room. The window next to his bed had a slight draft, and Hasetsu temperatures that time of year were generally cold enough to have him cocooning himself in his blankets. But this was... almost smothering, actually. As he cracked one eye open, the fog in Yuuri’s mind began to lift as snippets of memory fell into place. 

He wasn’t in his bed; he was in Victor’s bed. Judging by the dim ambient light in the room, he guessed it was sometime near dawn. Makkachin lay near foot of the bed on top of the covers, effectively trapping Yuuri under the duvet. Victor lay pressed up against his back, one arm curled possessively around his waist. Soft exhales brushed across his ear, Victor’s face almost buried in his hair.

Blinking at the faint streak of light peeking through the gap in the curtains, Yuuri slowly came to awareness. He had taken the initiative last night in stepping into Victor’s room. And they’d—

Yuuri blushed hot at the memory. Victor’s hands... his mouth. The ways they’d both sounded together. It had been amazing, and Yuuri’s only regret this morning was the knowledge of how much more difficult it would be now to say goodbye to Victor.

But that time hadn’t come yet and he didn’t want to borrow troubles. With a sigh, he leaned further back into Victor’s embrace, only to jerk away as the older man’s morning erection poked him, a stark reminder that they were both still very much naked. The suddenness of his action startled Makkachin who hopped off the bed to avoid human limbs flailing about. Victor stirred at the movement, tightening his grip on Yuuri.

“Mmmm... _dobroye utro_ , my little kobuta-chan,” he breathed into Yuuri’s hair, sleep evident in his voice. “Did you sleep well?” Yuuri squirmed, craning his neck, as Victor rained light kisses down the column of his neck and across his shoulder.

“Mhmm, yes I did. And you sound like you slept well too,” he murmured; Victor’s lips were soft on his skin as his hand splayed over Yuuri’s stomach.

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages,” the Russian nuzzled into Yuuri’s neck. “We should wake up like this more often.”

“Remind me to buy you a body pillow for your birthday. Or maybe a teddy bear,” Yuuri sassed. Lifting his head and shoulders off the bed, he peered around the room. “Where did my sweats go?”

“I don’t know why you want to put your sweats back on; I’m only going to take them off you again.” Victor claimed boldly, arms wrapping around him and tugging him close.

“Oh?” Yuuri looked at him over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You sound awfully confident.”

Victor drew him back down into the mattress and flattened himself against Yuuri’s back once more, the hand on his stomach sliding over the curve of Yuuri’s hip in a caress.

“Tell me honestly that you don’t want to be here and I’ll be happy to stop,” Victor challenged him, lifting his hand away from where he’d started drawing little circles on Yuuri’s skin. The brunet huffed and grabbed his hand, pulling it back down to his hip where it resumed tracing its designs.

“You know that’s not the case, Victor. I _do_ want to be here,” he sighed, leaning back against Victor’s chest as he continued. “But you also know... well, actually, maybe you don’t because we’ve never been together like this before. I don’t do anything sexual the week before a competition.”

Victor’s hand stilled. “But, there’s nothing that actually proves that sex hinders athletic performance. You know that, right?” he countered, leaning over to mouth at the crook of Yuuri’s neck. His palm slid lower onto Yuuri’s thigh and the brunet felt his body begin to stir.

“Maybe, but it’s a ritual for me and I plan to follow it,” Yuuri declared, nudging Victor away from him. Victor indulged him, shuffling back a bit on the mattress but keeping his hand on Yuuri’s thigh, as if he couldn’t bear to not be touching him in some fashion. Rolling onto his back, Yuuri turned to look up at the older man. “You of all people should understand the importance of ritual before a competition. I’ve read enough of your interviews to know you have your own.”

Victor preened at that nugget of information. “You read my interviews? Why, Yuuri, I had no idea you were such a devoted fan!” He fluttered long blond eyelashes rapidly at the younger man. “I’m flattered!”

Yuuri could feel the heat creep up his neck. He hadn’t meant to let slip just how much of a fanboy for Victor he really was, but evidently his mouth hadn’t gotten the memo. “Yeah, right. You know you’ve been my idol for over half my life; don’t rub it in now,” he mumbled, trying to roll away from Victor and back onto his side where the blonde wouldn’t be able to see how red his face was.

Victor was suddenly serious. “No, I didn’t know that, Yuuri. Hey,” he coaxed, pulling on Yuuri’s shoulder, “come back here. Please?” His voice was softer now, and Yuuri could hear the sincerity there as he rolled back to look at the blonde. Victor propped himself on one elbow, hand resting above Yuuri’s head on the pillow. He stroked Yuuri’s cheek with the knuckles of his other hand and his gaze was earnest.

“You only told me that you looked up to me,” Victor began, “but there are many ways to look up to someone. If I had a dollar for every time people told me they ‘looked up’ to me,” – Yuuri could hear what sounded like cynicism in his voice – “I would be set for life. But knowing you care enough to pay attention to things that are important to me, and have for such a long time, is... humbling to be honest. I’ll try to be worthy of it.”

He gave Yuuri a sweet smile, caressing his cheek and leaning over to kiss him. Yuuri stretched up a little too eagerly to meet him and they just barely avoided colliding noses. Giggling, the brunet fell back onto the mattress, pulling Victor with him.

“Mmm, you’re already worthy,” he hummed into the kiss. Victor drew his fingertips down Yuuri’s chest, lightly scraping his nails across one of his nipples. Their kisses soon became more fervent, and Yuuri could feel desire rekindling deep in his gut and between his legs as those deft fingers continued flicking and rolling the sensitive bud between them.

Victor pulled back a little, sending him an impish grin. “You know…today is really a week before we have to fly out to Barcelona. That’s not the same as a week before the competition itself.”

Yuuri had to fight to hide his own amused smile. Really, the man was downright shameless! “It’s actually less than a week until we fly out and you know it” he rebuffed, more to see how Victor would react. The blonde was undeterred.

“Okay, point taken. But it’s a week _and a day_ until you actually perform.” Victor’s hand slid lower in response, cupping him. “So you’re not breaking your ritual, right?”

“Hnngh...” Yuuri rocked up into his hand. “You do make a rather convincing argument...”

Victor purred, “I’m so glad you see the voice of reason.”

“Victor, where you’re concerned, there IS no reason.” Yuuri tried for his usual deadpan voice but there was no mistaking the hitch in it as Victor’s hand gently squeezed and stroked in all the right places.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the blonde husked in his ear.

“It wasn’t meant as one,” he managed to gasp out as Victor nibbled on juncture of his shoulder and neck. 

“Thank you.” Victor's whisper sounded smug as he continued his ministrations, stroking Yuuri’s body while the brunet panted beneath him. Yuuri could feel Victor’s erection trapped and hard against his hip and he reached down to stroke Victor’s thigh, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the man.

“I think I have a better way for us to do this,” Victor murmured, his own breathing heavier. He shifted away from Yuuri and reached out a hand out to blindly fumble in the drawer of the nightstand. Yuuri followed after him to press openmouthed kisses all along those delectable collarbones. He’d started working his way down his chest when Victor rolled back into him, tube in hand.

“Here, roll back on your side again, Yuuri.”

Yuuri followed the instruction, hearing Victor pop the cap on the tube behind him. After a moment, he felt Victor’s hand, slick with lube, between his legs coating the insides of his thighs. He shivered as a warm palm slid along the underside of his balls.

“Now, press your legs together, sweet katsudon… that’s it,” Victor crooned, sliding his other arm under Yuuri to grip his hip and then flattening himself against Yuuri’s back. Yuuri could feel Victor’s shaft slide between his legs and he let out a quiet moan at the sensation. Draping his other arm over Yuuri, Victor grasped the brunet’s cock in his lube-coated hand, giving a long slow stroke while rubbing his thumb over the slit.

“Haah... nnngh...!” Yuuri bucked forward into his hand, causing Victor’s hardness to jerk between his legs, and both men groaned at the friction. Yuuri couldn’t decide which direction to move in because they both felt absolutely incredible. Victor quickly established a rhythm and Yuuri followed, pushing forward into Victor’s hand and then arching backward to grind his ass against Victor’s abdomen as the blonde’s cock thrust between his thighs. He could feel strands of Victor’s hair brushing his neck as he bit and sucked at Yuuri’s shoulder and hear his harsh ragged breathing as he rutted against Yuuri.

It felt _amazing_.

Yuuri could feel himself creeping closer to orgasm. But he also wanted to see Victor, watch his face as the older man came undone. He craned his neck back to nip at Victor’s jaw.

“Victor, let me turn around,” he gasped, “I want to see you.”

Victor pulled out from between his thighs and Yuuri squirmed around to face him.

“Better?”

“Mhmm... much better” Yuuri hummed, eyes roaming Victor’s body. He’d had a chance to admire Victor’s physique last night, but now he was able to let his hands follow in the wake of the trail his eyes took. Over Victor’s muscular chest and across the flat plain of well-defined abs, lower along the trail of silver-blond hair that led from his navel to the soft curls at the base of his stiff cock. Victor was magnificent and Yuuri couldn’t help the rush of pride that washed through him at knowing he had caused Victor’s wanton look, his ragged breathing and flushed cheeks. Reaching across Victor, he grabbed the tube from where it lay on the mattress, squirting a dollop into his palm and warming it as he scooted closer. Taking Victor’s length in his grip, he wrapped his fingers one by one around the shaft and gave a slow tug, twisting his wrist at the top the way he liked to do to himself.

“Yuuuuuuuri...” Victor’s eyes drifted shut and his head lolled back on a long low moan. The younger man increased his pace slightly, watching Victor’s arousal play its way across his handsome features. Without warning, the Russian growled deep in his throat and grabbed Yuuri’s hips, pulling their bodies together, and it was Yuuri’s turn to moan as his erection slid along Victor’s. He adjusted his grip to encircle both of their lengths, working his hand along the shafts.

Victor’s hand soon joined his and he shifted his grasp upward as Victor stroked closer to the base. They were both panting harshly, breaths mingling as their foreheads leaned together, rutting up into the tunnel of their combined grips, nearing completion. Victor wiggled his free hand up between them, taking one of Yuuri’s nipples again and pinching it, causing Yuuri to gasp.

“V—Vitya!”

Victor’s eyes widened at the name and he rasped out, “Yuuri, I’m going to-... I’m-!“

Yuuri gave an extra twist at the end of his stroke and watched as Victor went absolutely rigid for a long moment before shuddering and calling Yuuri’s name in a low broken voice as he came across his stomach and over Yuuri’s knuckles. The sight of Victor in the throes of passion, combined with his own relentless strokes as he worked the older man through his orgasm, pushed Yuuri over the edge as well and his body jerked as they were both painted in streaks of white.

Lying in the warm afterglow, sated and spent, catching his breath, Yuuri decided there was no sight more beautiful than post-orgasm Victor. The fact that he was allowed to witness it brought a tight ache of love and affection to his chest. He had felt the pull of attraction toward his alluring coach for a long time, but it had deepened and become richer with the realization of his feelings during the China Cup. He wanted to be the only one to ever be allowed to completely wreck Victor this way. But he also knew the decision wasn’t his. Burying the ache, he forced himself to smile softly as he turned his head to face the blonde.

“Where’s that towel from last night?” he asked lightly. Victor groaned and heaved himself over to hang off the side of the bed, snatching the towel from the floor and handing it to him, before lying back in a boneless heap. Wiping himself down, he then gently cleaned Victor’s skin as the older man lay there.

“So, what’s on the training agenda for today, coach?” Yuuri asked him teasingly. Victor didn’t miss a beat.

“Well, you’ve already practiced Eros,” he quipped, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “so I thought we’d work on your quad flip, the free skate, and the exhibition skate, in that order.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Yuuri agreed. “But I’m hungry first. Let’s go see if mom’s made any tamagoyaki... I want to hear you moan again,” he bantered as he reached down to the floor to retrieve his sweats.

Victor affectionately smacked him on the ass and he squeaked, startled. “Victor!”

“Don’t worry, my kobuta-chan... you’ll hear me moan again, I promise,” Victor assured him.

  


* * *

  


The downside to skating first, Yuuri mused, was that it placed a huge bull’s-eye on his back, and forced him to watch as everyone else tried to overtake him. He had skated his heart out, knowing he had to be near-perfect in order to outscore JJ in technical points. And yet it still hadn’t been good enough, after his touchdown on the ice coming out of the quad flip. At the end of the short program, everyone except for Pichit who simply didn’t have the jump strength yet and JJ whose nerve-induced implosion surprised everyone was ranked ahead of him.

He sat there in the bleachers watching skater after skater, trying to hold it all together in spite of Yurio’s taunts behind him, in spite of Victor’s comments next to him, and in spite of the flashbacks to last year inside his own mind.

He’d gone searching for his coach after his interview was over and found him at the top of the stairs watching the end of Yurio’s performance. Yuuri had started to call out to him, but the look on the Russian’s face had the words dying in his throat. There was an intensity on Victor’s features that Yuuri had never seen before as the blonde watched his own world record become a thing of the past.

Victor had turned then and seen Yuuri standing there. They both avoided discussing what had just happened as they found seats to watch the rest of the performances, but Yuuri couldn’t help the hyperawareness he felt over every one of Victor’s movements and facial expressions. He watched as Victor smiled fondly, almost nostalgically, at Chris’ performance, heard the excitement in his voice as he exclaimed over how exotic Otabek’s routine was.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Victor was thinking. Probably that as long as he coached Yuuri, that he would never be able to feel the thrill of competition ever again. Not with Yuuri weighing him down, unable to even break a hundred points on his short program when it really counted. If he continued to coach Yuuri, Victor would miss the chance to bond with his fellow skaters. Chris seemed almost like Victor’s best friend, if Victor had such a thing; could Yuuri make such a claim on the Russian, having only really known the man for the past eight months? With a sinking feeling, he realized that _he_ was the one holding Victor back. _Yuuri_ was the one slowly choking the life out of Victor as a competitive skater.

He had originally thought that Victor was only in Japan to coach him on a whim while taking a breather from his own skating career. But his opinion had changed after the revelation that Yuuri was the one to instigate things between them at last year’s banquet, begging Victor to become his coach. The fact that Victor not only accepted the request, but also wanted him to never retire, simply cemented in Yuuri’s mind that the older skater was poised to give up his career completely. Victor would be throwing away not only the competitive skating he loved, but also the intensity and vivacity with which he lived his life and that made him who he was.

And for what? To coach a dime-a-dozen skater like Katsuki Yuuri? Oh hell no. Victor would be so much better off without him, and Yuuri was determined to set him free. It would hurt like hell, but he’d already known that when they’d gotten home from China and he realized he was in love with Victor.

He would have to take matters into his own hands, since Victor probably wouldn’t go willingly. It was okay, though; he’d assumed all along that this would be his last season anyway. Declaring his retirement would allow Victor to return to the life he loved without the guilt of having to publicly resign as Yuuri’s coach.

“Victor...” he began without thinking, turning impulsively to face the blonde.

“Hmm?” Victor responded distractedly, half an eye on the ice. Yuuri wasn’t sure how to begin, and he suddenly became aware of everyone else sitting in the vicinity; this was not the right time or place for a discussion of this magnitude.

“Actually... nevermind. We can talk back at the hotel,” he finished lamely. It would give him time to think through what he wanted to say and gather the courage he’d need to go through with his decision. He’d made his choices and gone into this relationship with Victor with his eyes wide open; and now it was time to face the music. It was time to let Victor go... for Victor’s own sake.

  
  


**_Friday night, December 11 th_ **

_Yuuri is... leaving me. What am I gonna do? How can he tell me to return to skating if he won’t be there??! Doesn’t he realize that it’s meaningless to me if he isn’t there too?!_

_I knew he might want to leave skating. He kept dropping hints of it all over the place, but I thought we were PAST all of that. He fucking asked me to stay with him until he retired!! He made it sound like he’d be here for years! Was he just playing me? Did he already plan back then to retire after the GPF and just not tell me about it? WHY would he let me think it was for longer? Son of a bitch I can’t deal with this right now. I thought maybe I’d be able to accept it if he really wanted to leave, but now that we’re here in the middle of it, I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t let him go. I accused him of being selfish, but I know that I’m really the selfish one between us._

_Dammit, how could he have taken my words so literally?? When I first got to Japan and told him I’d help him win the Finals… It’s like that’s all he heard! Like I said the word ‘finals’ and he automatically thought it’d be all over after that._

_How can he throw this all away? How can he throw US away? I don’t want this. Don’t leave me, Yuuri. Please. I don’t think I can live without the life and love you’ve shown me over the past eight months. What do I have to do to make you believe we have a chance together?_

_I tried every argument I could think of to convince him…that his skating was amazing tonight, that he still has a shot at the gold, that he’s grown so much, that I thought he wanted my help for longer. But he just kept saying that I’d already done more than enough for him and thanked me for being his coach. He fucking thanked me. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but I couldn’t help it._

_Somewhere along the line, I must’ve gotten through to him at least a little, because he finally agreed to wait until after the free skate for each of us to make our final decisions. So at least I have some more time to try to get him to change his mind. Would he stay in skating if I agreed to return to the ice? What can I say or do that would convince him to stay in figure skating? What could anyone say or do to help me change Yuuri’s mind?_

_You know what? Fuck it. He’s always telling me to stop trying to act like a model coach and just be myself. Okay. Fine. I didn’t take a break from my career just to coach a loser. If it’s real Victor he wants, it’s Real Victor he’s going to get. And Real Victor is about to light a challenge under Katsuki Yuuri’s ass that he can’t turn down. Because there’s too much on the line for me to let him walk away._

  


* * *

  


It was late the next night when they stumbled through the door to their hotel room, giddy and practically drunk on each other’s presence. Yuuri had lost track of how long they stayed at the arena, sitting on the floor at the side of the rink, too absorbed in each other to notice the venue emptying out and the cleaning crew shutting things down.

He was in that weird mental state of being both completely exhausted and completely keyed up at the same time. Victor was coming back to figure skating!! The brunet wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was real. He would get to skate on the same ice as Victor again.

That had always been Yuuri’s dream, to meet his idol on the same playing field and be recognized as a worthy competitor. And after the humiliation of last year’s GPF, it looked like that would never happen. As his coach, Victor had given him hope that he could stand on his own this year, but Yuuri knew that if Victor didn’t return to skating, he would never be able to accomplish his dream. The gold medal – winning the Grand Prix – that had been Victor’s goal for him; and while Yuuri would’ve been ecstatic to win, he knew deep down that simply being on the same ice with Victor – as an equal – was his heart’s desire and more than he could ever ask for.

Victor had always challenged him. Always pushed him. Always surprised him. Always wanted the best for him. Even in the middle of his blunders as a newly minted coach, THAT was Victor. The real Victor. He never failed to surprise Yuuri. The Victor who called him ‘kobuta-chan’ and wouldn’t coach him unless he lost weight was the same Victor who patiently helped him to train his body to be able to perform. The Victor who blatantly came on to Yuuri when he first moved in was also the Victor who gave him emotional space and met him halfway when Yuuri needed it most. 

Yuuri felt nothing but love and gratitude for the man; he didn’t want to let him down, ever. Victor didn’t want him to retire, and if he was coming back to competitive skating, then Yuuri would stay as well. How they were ever going to work things out with traveling between Japan and Russia, and Victor trying to be both a skater and a coach, he had absolutely no idea. But that was okay. There was time to figure it out later.

For now, they were together, here in the hotel. He had Victor in his arms and he was on top the world. The competition was over and tomorrow night they’d skate the exhibition program and then go back home. _Home_. Yuuri loved the sound of that, especially thinking of Victor there with him. And speaking of the silver-blonde...

He had pretty much refused to let go of Yuuri ever since Yuuri had said he wouldn’t retire. Victor acted as though he couldn’t get enough of the younger skater, hugging him, nuzzling his hair, some part of them always in contact. And now that they’d gotten into the room, Victor seemed determined to divest him of every stitch of clothing he wore. Not that he was complaining. Shoes, socks, shirts – they were all strewn about the room haphazardly as Victor tugged him toward the bed by his belt loops, teal irises darkened with lust and something else he couldn’t identify.

Victor’s arms slid around his waist, bringing their chests together as the older man lowered his head to steal Yuuri’s breath in a searing kiss.

“Mmmm, Yuuri...” he breathed against Yuuri’s lips. “I didn’t think I’d get to feel you like this again. I missed holding you.” He nibbled on Yuuri’s lower lip and then pressed kisses along his jawline to suck on the tendon just beneath Yuuri’s ear. The brunet tilted his head and suppressed a shiver at the sensation.

“I know. I felt the same way. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again, Victor.”

“Same here, sweet katsudon. I have you now, and I’m never letting go.” Victor’s hands worked his belt open and popped the button on his pants. He made a show of sliding the zipper down, dragging it against the hard ridge straining Yuuri’s boxer briefs. Yuuri bit back a moan, digging his fingernails into the pale skin of Victor’s shoulders.

“I like the thought of that, but if you never let me go, it’s going to make tomorrow’s skate a little difficult, don’t you think?” he teased breathily, drawing his hands down Victor’s abs to begin undoing his pants as well. They both tugged off their trousers, letting the articles of clothing join the others scattered on the floor.

“I don’t really care.” Victor’s comeback was swift and decisive as he gently pushed Yuuri down onto the mattress, climbing on top of the brunet to straddle his hips. He leaned over Yuuri, silver-blond strands of hair tickling the brunet’s chest, as Victor began marking a trail across his skin. “We’ll just-“ _kiss_ “-have to-“ _lick_ “-improvise-“ _bite_ “-our routine.” This last was almost whispered as he latched onto Yuuri’s nipple, sucking hard. Yuuri’s spine arched off the bed as he threw his head back.

“Haaaah... V-Victor!” He bucked his hips up into the blonde, the action causing both of them to gasp as their clothed erections rubbed against each other. Victor began moving his hips then, sliding himself back and forth on the stiffness in Yuuri’s shorts, pausing now and then to grind down onto him. The combination of friction and pressure was electrifying and Yuuri’s hands quickly found their way to Victor’s hipbones, pulling him closer and thrusting up each time Victor ground down. They were both panting harshly.

Victor worked his way back up over Yuuri’s chest and neck to latch onto his lips once more, licking his way into Yuuri’s mouth and curling his tongue around the brunet’s. He slowly lowered himself so that he was resting with his elbows to either side of Yuuri’s head, bodies flush against each other as Yuuri's palms slid into the dimples on either side of the base of his spine. The brunet splayed his fingers just over the swell of Victor’s ass and kneaded the pads of his fingers into the muscular flesh there. Victor arched his back into the touch and lifted his head just enough to gaze down at the younger man through half-lidded eyes.

“Yuuri, the competition’s over now and you’ve completed your ritual. I think I’m going to die if you don’t take me soon,” he sighed dramatically.

“Huh?” _Wait, what_? Yuuri froze as the words registered in his brain. He blinked at Victor, knew he probably looked like a gaping fish. Victor looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, but the smile he gave Yuuri was tender and affectionate.

“You heard me. You. In. Me. I want it; I want _you_.”

Victor leaned in to nuzzle his neck; Yuuri was still a little stunned at his declaration, though on second thought, maybe he shouldn’t have been; Victor had _always_ been full of surprises. Still...

“Victor? Are you sure?”

The older man raised himself up on his hands to fix Yuuri under his teal gaze. “There is nothing I want more than to wrap my legs around the man I love and have him drive me into this mattress,” he declared. “I’ve waited a year for you, Katsuki Yuuri. A year since you danced the flamenco and stole my heart at last year’s banquet. A year since you tied that ghastly necktie around your head and humped my leg like there was no tomorrow. I’ve had a long time to think about life and love and what they mean to me. And for the past eight months, I’ve watched you grow into Eros personified and I am so in love with you that I can’t think straight. Yes. I’m sure.”

Yuuri didn’t think his eyes could get any wider at Victor’s words, and he could only stammer out a small breathy, “Ohhh... You _love_ me?”

“Yes, ‘ohhh.’ And yes, my silly kobuta-chan, I love you. How could you not realize it after all this time?”

How, indeed. Yuuri supposed maybe it had been there all along. He knew his own feelings for Victor, but his long-held perceptions of Victor-the-idol had evidently clouded his ability to see the feelings that Victor-the-man had for him in return. It was – what had Victor called it? – ‘humbling’ to be given that much love and trust and faith. Victor was offering his heart as well as his body and Yuuri didn’t need to be told twice to take special care of them.

He wrapped his arms around Victor’s back and rolled them both so that the blonde was now under him. It was a captivating sight and he rocked his hips down into Victor’s, watching a blush suffuse the older skater’s cheeks. Yuuri leaned forward to suck a purpling mark just under Victor’s collarbone, before working his way down his body and across those sculpted abs. Grabbing the elastic of the older man’s bikini briefs in his teeth, Yuuri dragged it downward, glancing up to catch Victor watching him intently. Pausing, he sucked a matching mark into Victor’s hipbone, eliciting a quiet groan from the Russian as Yuuri kept his hips from bucking up. He tugged Victor’s waistband a little lower and Victor obediently raised his hips, allowing him to slide the fabric the rest of the way off before removing his own.

Victor was absolutely stunning spread out beneath him and he couldn’t resist running his splayed hands from where they rested on Victor’s thighs up along his body to his chest, brushing his thumbs along the way over Victor’s cock where it curved stiffly against his abdomen. He was fascinated by the way it pulsed at his touch and Victor’s soft whimper caused an answering twitch in his own arousal. “Haah, Yuuriii...”

“Did you bring the-”

“In the nightstand,” Victor rasped.

Yuuri leaned up and over Victor to search around in the drawer for the items he needed. It took a little longer than expected, since he couldn’t concentrate with Victor’s hands roaming everywhere they could reach on his body. But finally, his hand closed around the small tube and the foil packet next to it, and he returned to kneel between the Russian’s parted legs once more.

Yuuri made quick work of warming the gel in his palms and then reached one hand under Victor, sliding along the curve of his smooth skin until his fingers found their target. Holding the older man’s gaze with his own as he began to press inward, he took hold of Victor’s length with his other hand, pumping slowly. 

“Victor Nikiforov, you have shaped my life in so many ways you just don’t _even_ know,” he began as he worked Victor’s body open. “I’ve watched you for years and years. I wanted to be like you and then somehow it shifted and I just _wanted you_. Then you showed up in my family’s hot springs and I had no _fucking_ clue what to do. You turned my life upside down and drove me crazy. You’ve had me twisted in knots for the past eight months, and it was somewhere in the middle of my free skate in China that I knew that I loved you.”

Victor mewled and panted and arched his head back, tangling his fingers in the sheets and grinding down onto Yuuri’s hand. He was exquisite.

After what seemed like forever, he raised his head to look pleadingly at Yuuri, pupils blown wide and only a thin ring of teal visible. “Haah... Yuuri. I’m ready. I need you.”

The brunet gently withdrew his hand and reached for the condom, rolling it onto himself and slicking it with more lube. He lifted Victor’s hips and the Russian wound his legs around Yuuri’s waist, crossing his ankles at the base of his spine. Yuuri positioned himself with one hand, bracing his weight on his other as he hovered over Victor.

“ _Vitya_... let me hear that sweet, _sweet_ moan of yours. You promised me I’d hear it again. And just in case this is one of those promises you might have forgotten, I’ll help you remember.”

He pressed slowly, _so_ slowly, into the pale body beneath him, breaching him, finally coming to rest with his thighs pressed against the back of Victor’s legs. He stayed like that, unmoving, letting Victor get used to the feel of him. Victor’s body was hot and tight around his cock and _oh god_ , it took all of Yuuri’s concentration to not come right then and there. He hung his head over Victor’s chest, brunet locks falling across pale skin as he pressed tiny kisses wherever he could. Reaching a hand down between them, he slowly coaxed the blonde back to full hardness.

“Yuuuuuuurriii...” Victor’s moan was breathy and drawn-out, as if it’d been pulled straight from his lungs. “ _Bozhe moy, vy chuvstvuyete sebya neveroyatno_.” Yuuri’s Russian hadn’t yet progressed to comprehending advanced phrases, but he had no trouble understanding when Victor moaned again and urged him, “Move... _please_.”

He set up a slow easy rhythm between them, rocking into Victor’s body and relishing the feel of Victor’s heels pressing into his back every time he did so. Leaning forward to kiss the older man, Yuuri couldn’t stop a gasp of his own from escaping as Victor sucked on his tongue. He eventually relinquished his hold and Yuuri pulled back, leaving a saliva trail between them. He looked down at the Russian to comment on that little maneuver but the words died in his throat.

Victor looked positively _wrecked_. Flushed cheeks, silver-blond hair mussed every which way on the pillow, half-lidded eyes with pupils completely blown wide. He was the most erotic vision Yuuri had ever seen. The marks Yuuri had left on his collarbone and hip stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin, and he felt a rush of possessive pride in putting them there. Victor was his. Victor _loved_ him.

“Fuck...” he breathed, almost reverently, “Vitya, you are _so_ fucking hot... so gorgeous... I love you so much...”

He reached between them once again to stroke Victor’s length and snapped his hips a little harder, drawing more moans and sighs from the man beneath him. Victor had thrown his head back, eyes closed, when Yuuri increased his pace and started stroking him again. He wanted to see Victor come apart, wanted to watch those beautiful teal eyes as he orgasmed.

He gripped the base of Victor’s cock, squeezing just hard enough to get his attention as Victor’s eyes snapped open to focus on him. Inching closer, Yuuri leaned their foreheads together, his coffee-colored gaze boring into the Russian. 

“Remember what I told you in China? Don’t ever take your eyes off me. I want to watch you, _Vitya_... don’t close your eyes.”

And with that, he began to stroke Victor’s length once more. He could see Victor fighting to not throw his head back, watched as those teal irises darkened even further. Victor’s fists clenched and unclenched next to his head on the pillow, the gold band on his finger reflecting light from bedside lamp.

“Hnnnngh...” Yuuri moaned, increasing the pace of his thrusts once more. “Vitya... you feel amazing. I’m... not gonna last long like this.” Victor was bucking up to meet him now.

“Haaaah... neither will I, _lyubovnik moy_... harder... faster, Yuuri...”

He braced himself above Victor, interlacing their fingers, hands locked together on the sheets to either side of Victor’s head. Victor had his legs clenched almost punishingly around Yuuri, digging his heels in for leverage every time he thrust upward to meet the younger man, urging him on. A litany of Russian phrases fell from his lips, interspersed with the most sexually lewd noises Yuuri’d ever heard.

He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, hair plastered to his forehead as he fucked Victor, curling his hips up at the end of every snapping thrust to draw out more of those beautiful sounds from his lover. Yuuri knew they were both close to the end; he could feel his rhythm starting to falter and Victor’s breathing was increasingly shallow and ragged. Releasing one of Victor’s hands, he reached down to stroke him hard, once, twice...

Victor's beautiful eyes went impossibly wide as he came all over his stomach, Yuuri’s name a hoarse exclamation in the back of his throat. He could feel Victor clenching around him and for a moment it was almost too painfully tight. But then the orgasm rolled through him with the force of a freight train. The release was intense, _so_ intense, and all he could do was gasp Victor’s name and words of praise – “ _you’re so beautiful, Vitya; I love you so much; you were wonderful_ ” – nuzzling into his neck, holding him close as Victor’s arms came around his back to clasp him tightly and they both shuddered.

Once their breathing returned to normal, he carefully withdrew and stepped into the bathroom to clean himself up. Returning with a warm wet washcloth he gently wiped down Victor’s body, drying his lover’s skin with a soft fluffy towel he’d also brought. Wrapping the washcloth in the towel, he dropped the items on the floor with all their clothing and pulled the covers up around both of them. Straightening up the room could wait until later; he needed to be next to Victor, needed to feel him in his arms, now.

He held an arm out in invitation and Victor didn’t hesitate to roll over, tucking himself against Yuuri’s side, head on his chest and his arm thrown over Yuuri’s midsection. Their legs tangled together as Victor leaned up to press a kiss under his jaw, resting his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. The brunet threaded his fingers through soft silvery locks and sighed contentedly. It was Victor who spoke first.

“I think you’ve graduated, kobuta-chan,” he murmured, and Yuuri could hear laughter in his voice. “You don’t need any more lessons in _Eros_.”

“Well, I had a really good teacher,” he teased back. They shared a chuckle and snuggled closer.

“Mmmm, this is perfect,” Yuuri hummed. He paused before continuing, not wanting to disturb the moment, but needing to understand. “Victor, how will all of this work with you training and coaching me at the same time? Will we have to go back and forth between Japan and Russia?”

Victor reached a hand up to cup his cheek reassuringly. “If I’m going to train under Yakov, I need to stay in Russia. But if you’re going to train under me, you’ll need to be there with me. It would be no different than when you were living in Detroit, although we have better food. Well, except for katsudon, maybe.” He gave Yuuri a sweet smile. “What do you say, Yuuri... will you come and live with me and train in Saint Petersburg?”

Yuuri couldn’t hide his smile as he answered Victor, “I would love nothing more.”

“Then it’s settled,” Victor proclaimed. “Now, sweet katsudon... time for us to sleep. We have one more skate tomorrow night before we can head home.” He leaned up to give Yuuri a tender kiss before burrowing down further into his embrace. Yuuri just held him, burying his face into Victor’s hair and simply reveling in the scent that was shampoo and uniquely Victor as he drifted off.

  


* * *

  


**_Sunday morning, December 13 th_ **

_Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I could have life and love so fulfilling. For twenty years I ignored them, and then when I wanted them most, I thought I wouldn’t be allowed to have them. But now I have both, wrapped up in one person and I’m not letting my kobuta-chan go._

_I told Yuuri that he’s graduated. Yuuri is Eros and there’s nothing else I can teach him at this point. And after last night, anything we learn we will learn together._ (♥ω♥*)

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N: Russian phrases:
> 
>  _dobroye utro_ \- good morning  
>  _Bozhe moy, vy chuvstvuyete sebya neveroyatno_ \- My god, you feel incredible  
>  _lyubovnik moy_ \- my lover


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _There’s a place you just can’t reach unless you have a dream too large to bear alone._ ”  
> ~Katsuki Yuuri

Victor had warned him that winter in Saint Petersburg would be ‘slightly colder than Hasetsu,’ but Yuuri didn’t realize the difference would be this drastic. Temperatures in the daytime felt manageable as long as he dressed warmly, and most of his time was spent indoors practicing. But the trip home from the rink in the evenings just about froze his balls off. He was pretty certain it was even colder than spending five years in Detroit.

Winter had been long and cold in his new home. But now, in late March, the ice was finally breaking up on the Neva and hardy spring flowers were starting to poke their heads above the ground. Victor assured him that in another six weeks or so, the tulip display at the Peterhof Palace would be breathtaking.

Yuuri was looking forward to seeing more of the three-hundred-year-old city that was now his home and its sights, once they reached the off season. For now, though, his life was a tightly focused cycle of practice, travel, competition, and then practice again. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Victor had timed his return to competitive skating to coincide with the Russian Nationals, but with barely two weeks to prepare, he’d won silver rather than gold, nudged out of the top spot by Yurio, who seemed determined to not let him live it down. Yuuri wished he could’ve been there to support his fiancé, but the Japanese Nationals were scheduled for the same weekend and he had his own struggles to contend with. Victor seemed undaunted by his second-place finish though, and after a month of what Yuuri considered to be an insane training regimen, the blonde was back in fighting form and snatched the top spot away from both Yurio and Chris at Europeans. Yuuri couldn’t have been prouder of him. 

As for his own rankings, Yuuri had mixed emotions. Minako had traveled up to Sapporo to help him during the Nationals, but he sorely missed the presence of his coach and it showed in his second-place finish behind Minami. He managed to capture silver again a month and a half later at the Four Continents, only three and a half points behind JJ. Considering he hadn’t even qualified the year before, he was fairly satisfied with the outcome. But he was starting to wonder if he would ever be able to win the gold.

His body was still trying to get used to a new training regimen in a new environment, though, which was why Yuuri had opted to skip other competitions following the Four Continents in favor of training for the Worlds. Now, as he was finishing up his practice, he came out of his final quad flip to hear applause at the edge of the rink.

“Fantastic, Yuuri! That was your best skate yet!”

He glided over to where Victor was removing his skate guards, preparing to begin his own practice. 

“Victor, c’mon... you’ve said that after just about every practice session; they can’t ALL be the best skate I’ve ever done.” 

Victor shrugged unapologetically. “You know I love to watch you skate. Your body makes music,” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned in conspiratorially and waggled his eyebrows, “especially with mine.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, even as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Anyway,” Victor continued as he stepped onto the ice, “let’s practice our exhibition skate. I think we could use a little work on the twist lift.”

“Shouldn’t you be practicing your own routine for the competition next week?” Yuuri leaned over the boards to grab his own skate guards.

“But Yuuuriiii,” Victor whined, “I’d rather practice with you.” He skated up behind Yuuri, draping himself over the brunet.

“Yeah, right. You just want to get your hands on me. I’ll tell you what,” Yuuri negotiated, turning in Victor’s embrace to face him and placing his hands on his fiancé’s shoulders, “If you behave and finish your solo practice now,” he purred at the blonde, “then maybe we can... ' _practice_ ' together when you get home, _Vitya._ ” He felt a rush of satisfaction at Victor’s swift indrawn breath.

Their flirting was abruptly cut short by a flash of black and gold as a shower of ice shavings flew their way.

“Oh my god, would you two _please_ get a fucking room already?” Yurio complained as he joined the pair. “SOME of us here –” he swept a hand to encompass the rest of the rink, “– would actually like to get some _real_ work done before Worlds next week.”

“Don’t listen to him, Yuuri!” Mila called out reassuringly, skating toward the trio and sweeping Yurio off his feet, ignoring his shriek of protest. “He’s just pissy because he hasn’t heard from Otabek in three whole days.”

“Put me down, you damn hag!” he screeched as the other two chuckled at the spectacle. Mila just shot them a huge grin as she skated off with the still-struggling teenager.

Yuuri was fond of Mila. Other than Victor, she was the first of the Russian skaters to really welcome him into their fold. And although she was five years his junior, she quickly adopted a big sister role toward Yuuri that was a comfort and encouragement in Mari’s absence.

He finished attaching his guards and turned back to Victor. “Okay, I’m done here. I’m going to stretch and then head home to take Makkachin out. Any preferences for dinner?”

“Nope, whatever you want is fine.” Victor leaned over to kiss him briefly and then whispered in his ear, making him shiver, “I’m looking forward to our 'practice' tonight.”

  


* * *

  


Yuuri was just sprinkling the nori over their bowls when Victor arrived back at the apartment. Makkachin thumped his tail on the floor at his human’s arrival, but otherwise chose to remain in his spot on the kitchen floor. Whenever Yuuri cooked, he couldn’t resist giving the pooch a stray tidbit here and there and he was convinced the dog knew it; any time he’d step into the kitchen, Makkachin would follow expectantly, even if it was something as simple as a light snack.

“Welcome home!” he called out to Victor. “How was practice?”

“It went as usual,” his fiancé answered, toeing his shoes off in the entryway and hanging up his coat. Yuuri handed him a glass of wine as he came padding into the kitchen continuing his narration. “Yurio squabbled with Mila and Georgi acted disdainful of them both. But I think Yakov only popped one vein in his forehead, so it was a good practice. Mmmm, what smells so good?”

Yuuri chuckled quietly at Victor’s depiction as he carried the bowls around the center island and set them on the table.

“I made katsudon tonight. Minako-sensei would say I didn’t earn it by winning Four Continents, but... I guess maybe I needed some comfort food. Watching everyone at the rink... you all look like a big family, and sometimes I guess I just... miss everyone back in Japan...”

He kept his eyes on the table, not wanting to see Victor’s reaction, hoping Victor wouldn’t tease him about katsudon and winning and how they weren’t married yet. He didn’t like admitting his occasional homesickness to Victor. His home was in Russia now and he was happy living there with Victor and Makkachin, but there were times when he missed his parents and friendly faces back in Hasetsu. 

He felt Victor’s arms wrap around his waist from behind and his chin rest on Yuuri’s shoulder. Placing his hands over Victor’s, he leaned back into his fiancé’s embrace. Victor’s words were soft in his ear. “Oh, Yuuri... we didn’t mean to make you feel left out or homesick. We never want you to feel awkward. Everybody there loves you.”

Yuuri turned himself in the circle of Victor’s arms until he could bury his face against his broad chest.

“I know. I’m probably just being silly. Let’s eat before it gets cold.” He hugged Victor briefly, then stepped away and they both took their places at the table. Conversation was subdued but not stilted, and centered mostly on the upcoming competition and their rink mates’ antics.

After they finished and cleaned up the dishes, they moved to the sofa to watch some television. Yuuri was secretly amused to find that Victor watched Russian game shows with as much enthusiasm as he had watched their Japanese counterparts. They sat in companionable silence, Victor sipping his black tea with jam and Yuuri with a rare cup of hot cocoa.

“What’s on your mind, kobuta-chan?” Victor inquired, looking over at him during one of the commercial breaks. “I can tell you’re still not settled from earlier. Are you still feeling homesick?”

“No, that’s not really it. Victor, do you...” he hesitated, staring intently into his cocoa rather than into those teal eyes. “Do you really think I stand a chance at Worlds?”

It was difficult for Yuuri to not fidget under the scrutiny as he could practically feel Victor’s gaze boring into him. After a long moment, the ice was broken when the blonde set his teacup to the side and shifted closer to him on the couch. At the gentle prompting of two fingers under his chin, Yuuri reluctantly raised his head.

“Are you asking me as your coach, or as your fiancé?” Victor questioned, but before Yuuri could formulate an answer, he added, “Or as your rival?” At Yuuri’s small start of surprise, Victor continued. “Yuuri, _you_ are the men’s free-skate world record holder.”

“But I'm just a- ” 

“Yes, yes,” Victor waved off his protest before he could build up steam. “You’re a ‘dime-a-dozen’ figure skater from Japan... who happens to be _the world record holder._ Yuuri, I’m the one chasing _you_ now! We’re _all_ chasing _**you!**_  Of course you stand a chance.”

Yuuri had no idea what to say in the face of Victor’s emphatic assertion. On one hand, he desperately wanted to cling to the reassurance, but on the other hand, he couldn’t shake the thought that he was about to compete against _The Victor Nikiforov_ in a way that was vastly different from the last time they’d skated against each other. And although it was his dream, it also brought his self-doubt flooding to the surface. He must have waited too long to reply because Victor let out a sigh and reached for his arm, tugging Yuuri against him and beginning to run his fingers through his hair soothingly.

“Okay, here’s what I would say. As your coach, I would say you’ve trained hard. If you pay attention to the entry speed of your jumps and the tightness of your rotations, you definitely have a chance. As your rival, I would say I’m going to be breathing down your neck and hot on your tail so you’d better give it your all. You definitely have a chance _and_ I’m going to try to take it from you.” 

Victor’s voice softened as the fingers in Yuuri’s hair moved to cup his cheek. “And as your fiancé, I would say that when you skate, you become the most beautiful creature on the ice. You become music itself and every time I watch you I’m wrapped in your spell, Yuuri. The rest of us don’t stand a chance. Also...” he lifted Yuuri’s chin and dropped a light kiss on his nose. “...hurry up and win so that we can get married.”

Yuuri smothered a snort at that last comment as he snuggled against Victor’s chest. Victor’s words calmed him in a way that nothing else had. It was always too overwhelming to think about the win, the gold, the record. Yes, he wanted those things but every time he focused on them, they eluded his grasp. Instead, he chose to focus on Victor.

“I’m working on it.” Skimming his hand up over his fiancé’s shoulders, Yuuri lightly grasped the back of Victor’s neck and drew him down for a kiss. “In the meantime, we’re still outside of our pre-competition week, and I believe I mentioned something earlier about a joint practice session?”

He watched as Victor’s eyes darkened. “So you did, my katsudon,” he murmured, shifting them both and gently pushing Yuuri back into the couch cushions. “How about this time _you_ give _me_ some lessons in Eros?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking this journey with us! Your support, comments, and kudos have fed us as writers over these last several months and we are so grateful for you all!


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